The Woman He Loved
by claudius
Summary: At the turning of the year, Maes and Gracia deal with Worry, Life, Death, and a Goodbye.
1. Chapter 1

The Woman He Loved

Chapter 1: Glacier

By Claudius

I don't own the rights to any characters of _Fullmetal Alchemist_. Special mention to Bridgetkiido for the idea of a certain character's last name.

* * *

The East Military Hospital cared for soldiers both professional and student. It also proved a learning ground for nurses. During education lasting two years, young female students would take internships to this place. Here, they saw and participated in the physical life of the nursing job. Some young women quit after experiencing the demands of medical care. Others endured it and graduated, even becoming hospital employees.

One morning at the hospital began with a light snowfall. Young interns ready for the day shift entered the front door in a hurry. They headed to the lounge. A small room with tables, chairs, a sink, and a sofa, the lounge was a place for doctors and nurses, professional and intern, to gossip, eat, or rest. The arrivals shook the snow off their capes and hats, hanging them up. Then came the last intern. This young woman was very noticeable to her fellow colleagues. She symbolized the weather, calm and cold. Her entry was worth a colleague's joke. "It's getting so cold that a Glacier's forming."

The young woman eyed her colleagues with her green pupils. Her reply was a friendly smirk, contradicting the meaning of her nickname. The interns soon got to work, referring to each other by nickname. Cadets at East Military Academy labeled themselves, so the same habit was here as well. Professionals like Chief Nurse Elena Schmidt was named 'Ogre.' As for interns, Riza Evan had 'Rizzie' and Solaris Argeinden was 'Chest.'

Gracia Stern got 'Glacier.' Her nickname was based on her performance and appearance. This young intern had strength, treating every situation with calm fortitude. While some colleagues shirked from the messy injuries, Gracia kept patience treating every stab wound, hemorrhage, or decapitation. This resistance made her a reliable assistant for any professional. Her ability was not based on some morbid interest to gore. In fact, Gracia was really disgusted with such sights. She was just better able to keep her distaste hidden. Unfortunately, this behavior caused many to see her as emotionally cold, as some heartless woman. Not so to the people that really knew her. To them, Gracia Stern was a bright person with a very kind heart. Their regard to that miscast nickname was either laughter or anger.

Also factoring in her chilly title was her appearance. Gracia was not the belle of the hospital. Her smooth features were truthfully not plain, but she didn't portray them well either. Gracia wore little makeup, and kept her long auburn hair severely pulled up to the top of her head. To strangers, she looked like some middle-aged frump. Again, assumptions were mistakes: Gracia was not old, almost twenty years of age. And she certainly was not frigid. The celibate life was missing from her interests (even if she was still a virgin). She had dreams of marriage like any other girl of her peer. But getting men's attention during her burgeoning teen years was a failure. It discouraged her to try at the present. Gracia put this inability in stride, at least for now. The lack of a personal life encouraged her strengths in her studies and work, as well as her hobbies. So let her friends enjoy their men! Her work was the real importance.

This work continued throughout the day. That calm day changed with nightfall, when the snow turned to a mixture of ice and rain. By that time, Gracia's shift was about to end at nine o'clock. Time for some sleep!

No way, reacted the presence of Nurse Schmidt. "Ogre' commanded Gracia to see some cadet in the waiting room. As far as her superior was concerned, every remaining minute before nine had to be used. Gracia begrudgingly accepted the order. She contacted the lone man. "Yes, sir?"

Since the young man appeared to be searching for someone, his response had to be inevitable. "Tell me, where is Cadet Hughes?" His question was made in near-shouts, despite his overall calm demeanor.

Gracia turned to the desk and its list of patients. She found the name _Maes Hughes_. "Yes, he just came in." According to the paper, the man had a heavy fever.

With cordial grace, Gracia led the man to the patient's ward. Along the way she learned the man's name was Roy Mustang. He and the patient were from the Academy. He was also a Cadet Lieutenant, a rank he made especially clear with proud correction. Other words from him were even less polite; the Cadet…the Cadet Lieutenant kept making curses about his ill friend. His animosity grew louder as they came closer to the room. Gracia took this behavior as natural. Roy Mustang was a man.

Opening the door saw Cadet Lieutenant Mustang flying through it. On his bed, the Hughes patient slept very still. With him was an older nurse, Miss Arias, applying cold cloths to his forehead. The patient's face was pale and damp, and not just from the wet cloth. If not for the small labored breaths from his quivering mouth, one could easily believe him dead.

Mustang grimaced over his friend's condition. "That damn idiot. What was he thinking, taking guard duty with a fever?" He sulked in his frustration. But Gracia noted a degree of guilt in the man's anger. She predicted no tear-stained breakdown, though. Men like Roy Mustang were not the type to weep. Acting cold or angry toward others was a man's weird show of compassion. It was up to women like her to show emotions softly.

Gracia got a chair. The Cadet Lieutenant's uneasy position gave no evidence that he planned to leave his friend anytime soon.

"Miss Arias?" Gracia nicely asked the Nurse. "Can this man stay with his friend?"

The nurse nodded her approval. Gracia gave Mustang a blanket. It was past nine, but the desire to sleep lost some of its persuasive power. But a professional nurse was already treating the Hughes patient. She wasn't needed here.

* * *

On a cot, Gracia slept for the night. The hospital was equipped with a small room for nurses to sleep between shifts. The bad weather and her father's absence at home convinced Gracia to stay here for the night. She awoke, got dressed, and returned to the work. She found her colleagues in a group, talking about the Hughes patient and his friend. 'Chest' boasted about undressing the Hughes patient. "What a package he had!" She swooned, exciting her friends. Not 'Glacier.'

"His friend's even better," 'Chest' continued with a naughty blink of the eyes. "Wish he was sick too."

Gracia felt angry by these thoughtless words. A young man almost died, and they were more concerned about seeing his anatomy! Now it must be said that Gracia was not above such observations. It was just that admiring hot man flesh had its place, and that was nowhere here in this hospital.

"So Glacier, what do you think?" said 'Rizzie.'

Gracia grabbed her clipboard. "I think you should stop yapping and get back to work."

Her colleagues' smiles fell into frowns. Gracia turned away without concern. 'Chest's' voice touched her ears. "Forget her. What do you expect from that frump?" Gracia almost paused at that label. It was a good thing she wasn't facing them with the glare she was making. She accepted the nickname, but it could also be a burden.

Gracia soon returned to the Hughes patient's room. Mustang was still at his friend's side, all his attention kept on him. There was no reaction to her presence. Not that she felt the same way to him. Suddenly, Gracia really took notice to the cadets for the first time. She was starting to share her colleagues' vulnerability for their male good looks. Despite his strained, unshaven face, Cadet Lieutenant Mustang had this soft, boyish face and pretty eyes. Gracia turned to the patient, checking his forehead. The fever had broken. Like his friend, the Hughes patient was interesting to see; under that beastly sick mask was a long handsome face, best featured by the sculptured nose and large jaw. But there was a hint of the beast in this prince. The brow and jaw had a form that could easily express cherubic joy or extreme anger. Rather darkly attractive…

Oh Gracia! The nurse's mind reprimanded herself of such an interest. Enough with this!

Suddenly, the patient came awake. That was an overstatement, for the sign was just his eyes rising slowly. It contrasted heavily with Mustang's own behavior. He rose to his feet, chair and blanket upset in the process. "Maes?" Roy spoke in a tenderness that took Gracia's attention for its unmanly kindness. "Are you alright?"

"I feel awful," the patient choked in whispers. "Guess that means I'm alive."

Mustang reverted to gender. "Idiot. Why didn't you get off your watch by reporting this?"

"Nice of you to care," Hughes replied.

Gracia smugly nodded at her cynical prediction. Forget kindness and thankfulness for a friend's recovery! These men tore each other apart with anger and names. A preference to call the kettle black reached its limit. Like it or not, this was how some men behaved; it was cold stoicism for the rest. She better get used to it if she wanted to avoid spinsterhood. A diversion was found with the darkness of the room. Gracia went to the curtained window and opened it. The sun had finally come out on this winter period. Its glowing brightness fell on the patient. "That's better," Gracia was pleased.

The patient responded to the shine, squinting his eyes. His pupils blinked, than expanded upon her presence. Gracia saw their color of olive green. But the eyes were different from the rest of his face. So very different, Gracia thought with confusion. Like a plant under the sun, Hughes grew with strength. Now his face became very aware and fresh. What happened to the pale corpse?

Despite the surprise, Gracia was pleased at this happy recovery of sorts. She took her leave. With one last look, the intern saw Hughes watching her.

Gracia returned to her other duties. Last night's weather had caused some casualties. There was a soldier who slipped on the ice and broke his leg. Gracia bandaged that patient with care, despite the man's cringes and complaints. Then there was an unconscious cadet who suffered frostbite. Gracia joined a nurse and a young doctor in treating him. Tearing the pants open revealed a leg under frostbite. Dr. Kurtz, an older physician, checked this injury. He was unemotional with the verdict. "One leg must be amputated."

Suddenly, Gracia noticed the area around her become very silent. The nurse and young doctor backed away. Gracia was alone at her spot, feeling the same shock. But she complied in aiding for the surgery.

In the 'butcher's shop', as the surgeon's room was called, Gracia washed up and stood next Surgeon Anthow. She administered the morphine to the patient, composed and still. Utensils were asked. Gracia gave them without a waver. She looked to the patient, named Ericks Bonn. His face was calm, safely asleep from the horror. She kept looking at him until the deed was done. Then she looked to the blood-splattered part where a limb once existed. The carnage had her attention, though not in any way she liked. Pangs of sympathy roared inside her heart. Her free hands trembled, feeling a magnetic pull to the patient's hand. She quickly rejected the temptation.

The grisly job was over. Gracia got Kurtz and Anthow's congratulations, but she barely heard anything. Her mind and hearing were suddenly removed from each other. She guessed she knew what they were saying. All thought remained on the patient. Gracia satisfied her superiors with a nod. The doctor left. Gracia soon followed. She walked through the halls very calmly. Soon she was in the restroom, where she washed her hands. The redundancy of this act was ignored. 'Rizzie' was also in the room. The two shared some small talk: Words were exchanged. _Nurse Schmidt being an ogre…those cadets are super cute…how did the weather treat you…I've met this guy._ 'Rizzie's' departure left the room only to Gracia. Her eyes twittered to the emptiness, her ears absorbing the silence. It was time. Distaste turned the woman's face, sinking it to despair. Sympathies held back were embraced, aching her to a hurtful degree. Than came the weeping. That poor man, her mind cried, finding expression through her face. That man was now going to be without a leg for life! His soldier days are over.

A few minutes of tears gave Gracia some leave for her composure to strengthen. Wiping her cheeks dry, the intern returned to the public with fortitude. As she worked, the sympathy for the patient remained at the back of her mind. Once her shift was done, Gracia opened all thought and heart to the patient she met. She would have to do something for him.

* * *

The oven had reached its climax in cooking. Two apple pie were received. Gracia studied her creations with glee. No burns or malformed shapes marked them. After the first tries of years before, such mistakes became avoidable. Cooking was something Gracia took a private pride in. Her mother taught her everything. How messy those hours were, she remembered vividly. Watching Mommy create something delicious from some icky substances was a talent almost magical. It was this magic that Eleanor 'Elly' Lang Stern left to her only child. It was a legacy she didn't prefer to have; not having it would mean her mother was still here. Gracia counted the days and years since she died these four years ago. The family never recovered. As it was, she had to keep this legacy for herself. Using her gift for a living might dwindle the special feelings it gave her. But Bonn's calamity saw this craft was needed, desperately.

A half hour later, Gracia fixed dinner. Johann Stern, her father, entered the room in perfect timing. He ate and drank, his mouth only for eating. In perfect timing he left, heading out. No words came from him, despite Gracia's attempt to get into a conversation. No touch of a kiss or embrace was given. None were expected, at least presently. Gracia took this ignorance better than earlier times. Her father was not a warm person. He was a man. But Gracia knew her father did love her, and one day he will show it. Years of no response failed to discourage that hope.

* * *

The next day, Gracia reached the hospital grounds in early time. But the lounge would be second priority this morning. She went to the cafeteria and gave most of the two pies to its staff. Through them, Gracia's pies would go to the patients with no credit from her. This led to a hopeful satisfaction. No problem feeling a little proud, she shamefully thought.

The first hour was spent organizing the medicine closet, organizing new medication and bandages to their proper categories. Then Gracia attended to the patients' care. Soon she would see Ericks Bonn's happiness. That was all the congratulations to be expected. Men, unless by profession, were not the type to speak gratitude.

Breathlessly awaiting the anticipation, Gracia opened the door. There was Bonn. He lay on his bed, depressed. On the table lay the tray and its piece of her pie. Completely untouched.

Gracia stilled at this sight. But she dodged the disappointment. Perhaps it was wrong to think he wanted to eat instantly? "And how are you, Mr. Bonn?" She spoke softly.

The patient just rolled to the other side of the bed, away from the plate's direction. Doubts started to rise in the nurse. She looked at the chart on the bed. Her eyes weren't exactly checking it. The suspense was killing her. "Aren't you going to eat?" she asked.

Ericks Bonn glared daggers at her.

Success now looked vacant, but Gracia wasn't to be defeated. She continued with a gentle tone. "If you don't have your food, how will you regain your strength?"

Then Bonn's harsh look changed a little. He went to the tray. He picked it up. Relief grew in Gracia, burgeoning on joy.

Ericks Bonn threw everything to the floor. The crash sounded into Gracia's ears, as a more internal crash broke inside her. She wondered how she could still be standing. There were no tears. Would be nice to do so. The only action was to blame herself for this stupid plan. She should have known better than to expect some sensitive respect from a man, especially a crippled one. A pie was no consolation for a lost leg. Stupid girl…

Gracia knelt and picked up the damaged pieces and put them in the trash. All that work, she rued to herself. Her mother was destroyed in this mess, all because of her stupid pride. She will keep her food talent a private thing. She would never do this for an unfamiliar man again. With a calm grace, Gracia saw to the fellow patients. She wasn't going to let anyone see her cry.

Seeing no conditions in a dire way, Gracia went into the hallway. She looked for a place to disappear.

"Hiya!" said a booming voice. "Frowning for something?"

Gracia flinched. Right now, any surprise felt like an assault. But she held herself together, turning to the stranger with a cold face. It was Mr. Hughes. He stood with an expression of joy. Gracia repeated his name as casually as possible.

The Hughes patient was wearing glasses, its lenses sometimes covering those strange eyes. He waved his hand, his energetic behavior covering the weakness of his steps. The cane he leaned upon was evidence of that frailty. But for one moment, the infirmity vanished. For as soon as Gracia spoke his name, Hughes broke into surprise. His eyes widened, his mouth opening. The gape smoothly closed into a fulfilled smile. "Call me Maes," his improved voice was tender.

Gracia ignored the pleasantries. "You should be in bed!" Her voice could chill a lizard.

"I'm okay." Hughes coughed. "Staying cooped up can make a guy go batty. Case in point that other guy." He pointed to the room and Bonn.

Gracia was cool to the reminder of her mistake. "He lost his leg, what do you expect him to feel like?"

Hughes didn't seem to care. "He can get one of those automail legs. They work as good as real ones. It's not the end of the world."

A cold sensation stabbed into Gracia. The fact that Hughes had insulted Bonn was not the real issue in her outburst. "Perhaps, but it will be the end for you!" She grabbed the man's arm forcefully. "Get back in bed now!"

A protest was in the beginning of Hughes' response, but he fell silent. He surrendered to Gracia's demands. "Okay, okay. You win." He made attempts not to snicker in this forced obedience. Gracia pulled Hughes back to his room. She broke contact as soon as it looked like he was going to the bed. But the man rebelled again, turning around. He got Gracia pointing her finger at his bed with a face of resolve. _No buts_, said her tight face. Hughes sighed and turned to the bed. Once he was settled, Gracia turned to the door.

"Can you do me a favor?" said Hughes.

"No!" Gracia was swift with the word.

But Hughes was undeterred. "Can you see about getting me another piece of that pie?"

Suddenly, fire burst into Gracia's cold mood. It dissolved the cruel emotions. "The pie?" She spoke, eyes at the door.

"Yep," Hughes' sounded admired. "You know who made it?"

Still at the door, Gracia hid her astonishment of this interest. But disappointment still existed. She was back on guard. Facing the patient, her head shook in denial. "I'll see who made it."

Hughes' face stilled a bit, as if in study. "You should try it. If you get me a piece, I'll save some of it for you."

"No thanks," Gracia refused the chance for credit. She left the room. Later, she got the remaining piece intended for a friend. This helping was brought to Hughes' room. "Mr. Hughes?"

"You're looking at him." Maes lay in bed, lacking his spectacles but not a smile. "Unless my nose is deceiving me, it smells like you fulfilled the part of our deal." He grinned boyishly.

Gracia planted the food on the table. "You have a keen smell."

"When you're near-sighted, you pay attention to other senses." Hughes sat up with excitement. Gracia liked his expressions; its growing comfort, the wiggling of his lips to taste that pie. This was the gratitude she wanted. She smiled for a moment, frowning as Hughes put on his glasses. "I've also come for your check-up."

Hughes' grin widened. "Gladly." His attention of the pie was forgotten. Gracia saw him looking at her again. "Might I ask you something? Were you there when I woke up?" He quickly changed suspicion into confirmation. "Yeah, you _are_!"

Gracia ignored his breakthrough discovery.

"I heard your voice that time." Hughes' eyes grew wider, and not just because of the lenses. Gracia never saw such eyes in a man. They were not pretty like Mustang's, but not handsome either. They had a kindness in them, completely miscast for his sex. "Yep, I was right. You do have a good face."

That unknown compliment stunned Gracia. No man had ever said something like _that_ to her. But the effect was hindered by wariness. Young men at that age were only interested in one thing. Not that she was uninterested with the prospects of physical sex (thinking about it made her warm). But never in the way some young men meant it, where a night of passion quickly led to disinterest and other conquests. Call her old-fashioned (and her friends and colleagues definitely did), but Gracia preferred to make love with someone who thought her with, well, _Love_. This wariness held against the man's advances, as difficult it felt. Hughes' eyes showed no dark insincerity about his interest in her.

"So what's your name?"

"Stern." Gracia was formal.

"I can see that." Hughes joked. Gracia made a one-minute silence. The attempt for humor was killed on the spot. Then she threw the thermometer into the man's mouth. It was time she nipped this flirting at the bud. "I could lose my job associating with patients."

Unfortunately, her words only lauded the man's determination. "Then I better get well fast," Hughes mumbled.

* * *

The next morning Gracia didn't visit Mr. Hughes. She had other things to do besides being his target of flirting. The patient could find better fish in her fellow nurses. It took the afternoon for that visit to become mandatory. Gracia went to the room. She heard silence. Opening the door revealed a nurse making Hughes' empty bed. The meaning of this was plain in her mind, but Gracia still asked. "Where is the patient?"

"He got better." The older nurse, Lucille, glanced at her and continued the blanket folding. "He was discharged an hour ago."

The news put Gracia into a momentary trance of thought. _He was discharged an hour ago._ Then came the return to reality. Well, that was it. Mr. Hughes was gone now. Feelings of respect flowered in Gracia for this man. He wasn't a bad patient, not a lecher or worse. As she thought about it, his flirting was harmless. And he did like her pie.

Gracia felt a sudden fear of spinsterhood. Would she always turn away eligible men until it was too late? But the fear was just as quick in appearance as entrance. Gracia wanted to marry someone she loved, and loved her in return. Right now, the men she saw were not the kind of mates for that rule. No sense of wasting her chances away just yet. She was still young. Gracia considered more of the drawbacks. Hughes was a little too weird anyway. Chances are 'Chest' got him for a date.

Once her doubts were settled, Gracia got back to work. Her hours were spent caring for patients, treating injuries, and getting medicine. Any thoughts about Maes Hughes faded by the time her shift was done. She donned her cloak and hat from the lounge, and left through the front door. It was snowing again. Fortunately, the white specks had lost much of its might this night. In fact, she could even see a man sitting at the bottom of the steps. His greeting face was recognizable. "Hiya!"

"Mr. Hughes!" Gracia stated his name. She was really surprised. "What are you doing here?"

Hughes sprang to his feet. With a hand at the back of his neck, he gave victory in gesture, face, and eyes. "Isn't it obvious?" He yelled with a dashing grace, showing himself devoid of the serious illness. It was something to admire.

But for Gracia, respect mixed with his possible insincerity. "You're in no condition to be in this weather!"

And sure enough, the perfect man showed some clay feet. He coughed his illness breaths. Recovery was not complete. "I'm…fit as a fiddle!" Hughes flexed himself, beating on his chest, which produced some more gasps. "Besides, didn't you say nurses aren't allowed to socialize with patients? After hearing that, I had to get out of there."

The well-meaning words couldn't penetrate Gracia's well-made guard. She silently walked down the steps.

Hughes attacked her ignorance by following. "In need of a companion, Glacier?"

"My name is Gracia Stern," Gracia's words chilled in her correction. "And I don't need a knight in armor, Mr. Hughes. Besides, you could be contagious."

Hughes leapt a few feet away, and followed her from that distance. "Problem solved."

"You can take a longer one than that. I live outside the city."

"I'll get a car for you, then."

"Don't bother." Gracia stepped away. She saw a war of attrition in these protests. If this man had a reply for everything, then she would have to find a loophole. Time for the impenetrable protest! "Get lost!" Her plead was sharp and strong.

And so Gracia saw the man no longer beside her. She had won. But celebration was not present. A look back saw Hughes departing. He walked away slowly, sadly. Her pride was hit by a worsening concern. She had hurt the man's feelings. She didn't mean to do such a horrible thing.

Gracia found everything opposing her. This cruel action, Hughes' lonely walk, and the snow's bleak atmosphere; all these factors allied and fought her pride, forcing a defeat. "Oh alright!" She yelled. "C'mon!"

Instantly, Maes Hughes rotated to her.

"But only for a while!" Gracia spoke her limits, stern and defiant. Against that resistance was Maes' approach. He happily skipped to her side, like some child winning over his parents. Gracia thought she would regret this. But this grown man was charging to her side with such unmanly glee! How immature. How cute. She should shudder at this sight. Instead, she felt mirth. Hughes' joyful advancement turned the irritation into endearment. Laughter pressured Gracia's frown. A smile will soon come.

_Who is this man?_

* * *

To Be Continued

For Roy's side of the story, read the upcoming part to _Memories of a Best Friend_


	2. A Child's Man?

The Woman He Loved

Chapter 2: A Child's Man?

By Claudius

I don't own the rights to any characters of _Fullmetal Alchemist_.

* * *

It was nice, walking with him. 

That was Gracia's thought of that situation. Despite her reluctance, she found little regret having Maes Hughes accompany her to the bus station. It wasn't a lonely walk on that cold night. It wasn't a quiet walk either. The cadet talked a lot, sometimes about himself. He stated his rank was a Cadet Lieutenant, a comment lacking the prideful tone his friend Roy Mustang so rudely exclaimed to her a few days ago. Gracia didn't really mind the constant talking, despite her demeanor of silence and disinterested replies. She still held her guard, revealing little of herself. Nevertheless, Hughes did acknowledge some things he learned about her, such as her nickname and her pie cooking skills. That latter fact led to his praise. In that respect, Gracia denied nothing.

Overall, it wasn't a lonely moment. It looked like a couple's romantic stroll, and Gracia toyed with the facade. But she had lost believing in that fantasy years ago. This man had little interest in her besides sowing oats. Still, it was nice to imagine the impossible.

Too bad Hughes killed the fantasy with his real question. "Since I don't like the idea of getting sick again, and a nurse-patient relationship is out, any chance I can see you, let's say, non-professionally?"

Gracia failed to give an answer. Fortunately she was at the bus by now. Gracia boarded the vehicle without an answer, hoping Hughes thought she didn't hear his question. But she knew this was delaying the inevitable. Tonight had shown that Mr. Hughes had taken a fancy to her. But she needed no sly man looking for conquest. She wasn't interested in Hughes anyway.

That is what she told herself. As the days went, Gracia found herself unable to find satisfaction in that verdict. Her mind kept seeing Hughes' handsome face, his dreamy smile. A lot of women went through this problem; a lot of them ended up sadly disappointed when they surrendered their heart. Gracia wasn't going to have any of that. She had to put this 'obsession' to rest. This meant learning more about this man.

So Gracia asked cadets about Maes Hughes. Most of them answered her search. Hughes was indeed a Cadet Lieutenant. He had the nickname of 'Mustang's Dog' because of his loyalty to Roy Mustang. But the man also had his own popular following. It appeared to Gracia that all the times she didn't check up on the patient were times cadets visited him. Rizzie and Chest verified those incidents. Hughes was a very likeable man on the campus. True, he was an excellent student, but his colleagues talked about his loyalty. He helped people. To Gracia's mind, this help probably meant fighting bullies. Young men talked with their fists.

But any hope of appreciation was blocked when Hughes' social life was explored. He was a ladies man, constantly boasting about his sexual prowess. It was known that he made many trips to the Academy's laundress, Ally, whom a lot of the cadets visited. No doubt, Gracia firmly imagined, for other reasons besides washing. Her suspicions were proven correct. That angelic face hid a rogue. Not that she was interested. This knowledge fulfilled her reluctance. No way she was going to be some temporary squeeze for any soldier, especially one named Maes Hughes.

* * *

With a mixture of appreciation and surprise, Gracia received nothing of Hughes' presence. For the next few days he didn't appear to her. No sign at the waiting room, no appearance outside the hospital, no letters of love promises and everlasting devotion. It was something to be pleased about; only Gracia found that pleasure vacant. Instead, she had the kind of feeling one gets when a long-standing annoyance disappears. You're so used to the annoyance that it becomes somewhat disappointing when the appearances stop. 

As Gracia got over this superficial disappointment, Dr Kurtz asked for her. He wished assistance to examine a cadet student. She complied in this wish, a dream task for any rising intern. Excitingly, the student nurse followed the doctor to a small room.

She heard a loud call. "Hiya!"

Gracia froze as if she had been shot. There was a second of doubt in her. _It couldn't be him_. But the grinning face of Maes Hughes shattered that hope. He waved with one hand, than rubbing the back of his neck. "My, funny thing meeting you here!" Hughes stood in a dress shirt with military pants and boots. His posture was an imposing stature thanks to his height.

Gracia paused and stared, but she made no greeting. This got Dr. Kurtz's notice. "You know each other?"

"Former nurse and patient relationship," Gracia coldly revealed. "Nothing more."

Hughes drooped a little at the sound of that.

"Good," Dr. Kurtz was assured. "Mr. Hughes here wishes an examination."

The patient brightly explained things. "I want some info on my old ticker." He beat his chest enthusiastically. But this liveliness lessened in continued comment. "Y'see, my dad had a weak heart throughout most of his life. I wondered if it was something hereditary."

This information fed into Gracia, sparking some humor. So the heartbreaker may have a broken heart of his own? She walked next to the patient reservedly, holding the clipboard to record Kurtz's conclusions. She kept her sight on Dr. Kurtz, but a sensation told her the patient wasn't sharing her point of view.

"We'll see about that, Cadet Hughes," Dr. Kurtz got his instruments. "Disrobe."

Hughes was calm to the doctor's request. Gracia acted calm as she felt a sudden gust of heated interest burn within her. She kept her face away as she heard Hughes' shirt being pulled off. But Gracia soon looked at the man's shirtless form. Her strong front became all she had, as everything else inside her went feeble. Hughes was a slender man, but muscularly toned as well. The upper part of his torso was larger than the lower part. His thickly rounded arms could bounce off such muscles. Gracia found her eyes fixated upon the man's pectorals. They were lumped upon his chest, meeting together to bear a ripple before the neck. There were ripples on his stomach as well. As close as she could see, Gracia found little hair on him, save for the fringes surrounding his dark brown nipples.

The patient sat down. The position of his arms and stomach caused his muscles to swell up and expand. Gracia watched, thinking hard with disdain. The guy was flexing on purpose! _Show off_, she tried grumbling in thought.

Now the bottom clothing came off, leaving the man with nothing but white shorts. The hem of these shorts hung above his knees. The waistband curved by his smooth abdomen. The slightly baggy shorts were a small contrast to the tightly skinned man who wore them.

Dr. Kurtz was impressed. Gracia fought against the word.

"Would you believe I was fat once?" Hughes joked, patting his belly.

Gracia suddenly feared for her forbearance. As a girl, she felt weird adolescent sensations toward the artistic creations of naked men. Such flushes had not atrophied as she grew up. It was true she had done such examinations before, carrying on her coolness successfully. But this man was different, not just in physique. Hughes had declared war, thinking his ripped nakedness would cause her to swoon. He could succeed. But Gracia had her weaponry. Her ability to hide emotions was her great ally. Hughes was definitely not going to win this war. Confidence was on his side though, according to his smirking. Oh, how he must be enjoying this! She…wasn't.

The doctor probed the stethoscope on the man's chest. "Breathe in, breathe out."

Hughes followed the advice without a shiver or embarrassment.

"Do you eat any fatty foods?"

"Not really. Gave some of that up when I lost weight." The patient took a knowing glance at Gracia. "But I've had some exceptions."

"Heartbeat regular," Kurtz decided.

Okay, Gracia marshaled her strength to write this report down. _Heartbeat regular_…_check out those shoulder blades…Think, Gracia!_ The woman's mind cried at herself. _Keep your mind on your work! _

It appeared Hughes was better at forbearance. He stood and sat in his semi-nude position with cool resolve. He sure had the experience, Gracia scowled in her knowledge. Any discomfort Hughes did show came from other factors. "How did you get that scar?" Dr. Kurtz pointed to the patient's left wrist, which revealed a wound. It appeared something had impaled through it.

"A sabre wound," Hughes replied with a quivering anxiety, grabbing the wrist as if it was deformed. "Nothing vital was hit."

The doctor then tried the man's reflexes. Being knocked, his almost hairless arms and legs jerked with swift capacity.

"Blood pressure next," said the doctor. "Miss Stern?"

Gracia momentarily froze at this request. When she thawed into action, she felt herself heat up even more. Strapping the sphymonanometer around his bicep meant touching his solid skin. The muscle caused her to almost faint. Quickly, she composed herself. Hughes was grinning again.

"Mr. Hughes, your blood pressure's rising!" Kurtz noticed

"Oh sorry," Hughes was looking at Gracia, sweat on his temple. "I'm being distracted." Fortunately, man and pressure calmed down.

The tests continued, with Gracia tested as well. She didn't know what she couldn't stand more: this man's smug conviction or his double entendres.

Then the doctor unintentionally added a trump card. "Take it off!"

Hughes nodded. He bent over, pulling his shorts off his waist.

Gracia got ready to throw her secret weapon. The doctor had his back to her. When exposure arose, she gaped her mouth wide. It became a grin. Without making a sound, Gracia expressed laughing. She grabbed her mouth, widening her eyes and nodding in a brilliant pantomime of laughter.

Hughes' lip expression failed to rival her own smile. The distinction grew as he turned disarmingly vulnerable. Gracia's tactic had worked.

"Cough," said the doctor, unaware of the blow her nurse had given to the patient.

Hughes did as commanded, red pigments blossoming on his cheeks. He quickly turned around and pulled his shorts back up. Gracia saw the other cheeks of his body being covered.

The examination ended soon after. Dr. Kurtz checked the record. "We'll let you know," the physician patted the cadet's shoulder. "But right now I can surmise that your father's problem was his own."

"Thanks," The patient mouthed his gratitude, hastily garbing himself. "Glad I came." He glanced at Gracia with a serious face. It struck her. That was a new one.

* * *

In the lounge, Gracia talked of her experience with her fellow student nurses. Reaction was not lukewarm. 

"You saw him naked?" cried Chest with regret. "Lucky!"

"So, how was he?" Rizzie asked for details.

"No big deal," Gracia hid her real thoughts. She walked out the door, with Rizzie following.

"As ever the ice queen," Chest despaired. "Men are wasted on you."

Gracia smugly shrugged this insult. Entering the hall led to her spotting Hughes. Her victim stood there, pretending to be waiting for someone. Gracia than lowered her voice, speaking some minor joke to Rizzie. When both laughed, Gracia shot a glance at Hughes. Did he think she was joking about his perceived 'shortcomings?'

But Hughes took her deceptive act with stride. He smiled and waved.

Gracia went to the desk. Hughes spoke, his interest balanced with her seeming lack thereof. "Look, I had no idea you were going to be my nurse. Chances are I'd get a different one. I'm not convincing you at all, am I?"

Gracia failed to shake her head, checking reports. "You paid the penalty. Hope you liked my reaction."

"Actually," Hughes brushed his head with anxious glee. "I liked your happy face."

Gracia's mind lost all attention on the papers before her. Victory had suddenly died away. Her inner self materialized a confused _Huh?_ Did her plan backfire?

Hughes flaunted his counterattack with flattery. "It looked really good. You should show it more often."

Gracia just stared at Hughes. The flattery became unbearable. Well, maybe not in the way that word is usually expressed. But she didn't want to hear any more of it.

"Any chance I can possibly see more of it, say…?"

Gracia jerked her head from him. "I got a patient to see," She marched away, not looking back at the uncertainty that took her. She heard Chest snicker.

* * *

Evidently Maes Hughes didn't get that message. As the day passed, he still called upon her. And Gracia found other distractions to turn him down. But the defense was wearing down. A reckoning was in store for the both of them. Gracia didn't want to date, but she was no shrew, ready to shoot the man down. And yet it felt wrong teasing him with hope. She wanted closure. She found a way.

* * *

"You see, I've granted his wish to see me, on one condition," Gracia revealed her plan to Rizzie in a resolved flair. "Today I go with Nurse Lucille to the City Orphanage again. Hughes will volunteer and help me there. Of course, this means looking after the children." She paused with anticipation. "Oh, what those monsters will do to him!" 

Her friend was unconvinced. "You don't fool me, Gracia. You're crazy about those little monsters. Why, I don't know."

Gracia was prideful. "But I'm a woman. It's part of the feminine nature to love and enjoy children."

"And it's nowhere in the manly nature?"

Gracia was silent for a second in thought.

_(Daddy, can I hug you?)_

_(No, Gracia._)

"No," Gracia's answer was final. "For men, children only belong in the 'better off seen, not heard' category. Mr. Hughes is the same. Once the kids have had their fun with him, he'll have enough of them. I'll then tell him I want to have a family. Then it's Goodbye, Mr. Hughes!" Gracia flamboyantly sealed the end of her plan with a wave of the hand.

Rizzie was silent.

"Well?" Gracia awaited comments.

"Glacier, why don't you go out on a date with him?"

Gracia's mastermind air was deflated. That was not the comment she asked for. She refused to answer.

But Rizzie wasn't finished. "It's just one date. And he is nice. What have you got to lose?"

Gracia arose from the table, heading for the door. "I must be going."

"Gracier!" Rizzie shouted.

Gracia stopped at the door. Rizzie deserved some sort of answer. "Sorry, I just can't trust him."

"Sounds more like you can't trust him liking you," Rizzie threw her insight like a dagger. It hit Gracia with perfect aim. The scar remained in her thoughts.

* * *

Anyone who knew Gracia by her nickname would find 'Glacier' to be absent from this nursery at the City Orphanage. The real woman sparkled when she saw the children. Their presence brought a warm loving smile from her lips. She loved children. Despite her cold father, Gracia found feelings from her beloved mother. As a child she loved her hugs and kisses, her sweet words, her love for her. Such devotion was given to her, and she couldn't withhold it from those in need. It was especially true for these orphans, who lost their parents so young. Gracia doted on them like a mother. One day, she would like to be one. 

Right now, however, Gracia had to perform a most unkind act to these children. They were led to the infirmary for vaccines. Unfortunately for Gracia, Nurse Lucille wanted her to administer the shots. She beheld the children, lined up in a morose fashion. Their sad faces made it look like they were going to be sacrificed. The fright in those chubby, sweet cheeks and porcelain eyes was horrible to see. Gracia felt like a monster.

An older boy named Jon showed the first resistance. He appeared tough, frowning at his less courageous friends. "I don't wanna shot!" He ran to the door.

"That's enough!" Gracia declared her insistence, bearing a frown and stare at the child. It only took the sound of her voice to deflate the child's proud courage. He returned to the line. "I'm sorry," he mumbled.

Likewise, Gracia's own harshness melted back to a kind, understanding face. "That's okay." Gentleness may be her primary talent to children, but sometimes she had to be firm. Hard to do in this situation.

First in line came a little girl, Angie. She was like innocence standing before the darkness. Her sad cherubic face expressed to Gracia why she could do such a horrible thing. But Gracia thought fast. The only way the kid can get through this was ignorance.

The girl shook. Her arm rose as slowly as a weight. Gracia touched both her hands upon the child's little one. "It's okay," her voice spoke tenderly. "I won't harm you. I promise."

The weight lifted a little. The girl shirked her face away from this awful action.

Gracia swiftly gave the injection, to the numbed shock of her little audience. "You know what? I've changed my mind. I won't give you the shot."

The girl turned her head with hope. "You won't?"

"I already did." Gracia smiled, exposing the shot. "See, that didn't hurt at all!"

The girl took surprise, infecting the others. They were all stunned with curiosity. Was this true? Their faces gave hope. Gracia arose, her trusting face emphasizing her promise and its fulfillment. One by one, the children were given the vaccine, without any more discomfort.

"My, what brave kids you are!" Gracia doted on them. "Much braver than some adults! Now let's all go back to the nursery!"

The children complied. The atmosphere had indeed changed. The children's hesitance changed to welcome appreciation. Gracia's skirt was tugged. Mata, a small child with brown hair did the deed. "Can you read me a story?"

Gracia touched her cheeks. "I promise."

Three boys came closer. Two of them shoved the other to her. This one, named Tom, was very anxious.

"Yes, Tom?"

"He says he likes you!" One of the other boys shouted.

"Shut up!" Tom said. He turned bashful.

"Well thank you." Gracia knelt to the child. "I like you too." She kissed the boy on the cheek. Her views on men differed from her affection on boys. She could trust little men. They had no ulterior motive. But that would change, Gracia sadly reminded herself. What went wrong with boys?

Tom than spoke again. "Who's that man?" He pointed to a door.

Gracia turned to see Maes Hughes at the door window. His nose rubbed against the glass, causing some giggles from the children.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Hughes," Gracia coolly greeted her victim at the door.

The victim was excited, clapping his hands once. "I've come to help, as long as you need me!"

"I hope so," Gracia grinned. "Come in." Hughes entered confidently, with Gracia announcing his presence. "Children, I have someone to meet you. His name is Maes Hughes. He's becoming a soldier. He's here to play with you while I'm away for a few minutes."

Sighs rang along the group. Hughes attacked the somberness by greeting the children with exuberant arm waves. This could have affected Gracia's expectations, but she was undaunted. That positive attitude will end soon, she predicted in a dark calculation.

The children entered the nursery. Only Gracia remained in the hall. She backed away, watching the children surround Hughes like rats. "I'll be back in twenty minutes!" She promised gingerly. Then she shut the door, sealing away the bedlam- with Hughes in the middle of it.

* * *

It was Gracia's decision to wait for thirty minutes. Give the man time to suffer at the hands of those kids. But Gracia was never a cruel woman, and her cruel thoughts haunted her. What if Hughes turned on the children? What if he screamed at them? Gracia never would holler at the children. She could shout, but never scream in rage. Nor could she ever smack them. What if Hughes was doing that right now? Her father never did, but Gracia knew of other parents capable of abuse. 

What has she done?

Fears of such things bloomed into Gracia's resolve. Barely half of the time passed on her period of exile. The young woman stopped work and ran to the children's room. By the time she grabbed the knob, the threat had reached its peak.

Thus, what she truly saw was an extreme letdown. The juvenile occupants were missing. Not their target though. On a chair sat a bound Maes Hughes. His arms and legs were tied to the poles. His face was covered with paint and drawings, his mouth stuffed and gagged.

Extreme emotional dread deflated by great relief can create such mirthful effects. But Gracia greeted this hilarity with coolness. Her worries had come to nothing. Her plan had worked excellently. The smug intern walked to the bound prisoner, and yanked the gag from his mouth. "Playtime over?" Gracia asked, hoping for a loud confirmation.

"Sshhh!" Hughes' emancipated mouth whispered. "Not so loud. They might hear you." Gracia's air broke. Hughes quickly freed himself by his own power, acting very wary about the solitude. He jumped off the chair, and crept to the door. A narrow opening had him searching secretly for the appearance of any children outside. He then turned to Gracia, wagging his finger for her to follow him. Very confused, Gracia nevertheless obeyed his pantomime. They quietly walked out of the hall, toward a broom closet. Hughes allowed Gracia inside first. He made his halfway approach through the door, his head peeking outside the hall. Then he yelled. "You can't catch me!"

Quickly, Hughes put the closet into darkness. His companion was confused. Did he really think…? But the thundering sound of little feet excited her to keep quiet. This was rather fun.

"Now be very quiet," Hughes' voice came in the darkness.

Gracia responded to the darkness. "If you're afraid of the children, you could leave instead of hiding."

"That's no fun. How are they going to find me then?"

"No fun?" The darkness did well to hide Gracia's shock. "You mean…you're doing this for the children?"

"Yeah."

"But…but, you're a man!"

"So? That doesn't mean I don't like kids."

Gracia went silent, unable to react to that sentence in a clear manner.

The darkness broke, the light revealing the children. They swarmed around Hughes, screaming and yelling like puppies around their owner. Gracia, meanwhile, was trying to register this experience. Seeing Hughes with the children didn't help. He was enjoying it all! It was almost as if he was a big child himself.

"Okay, boys and girls! What do you want to play next?" Different choices were all spoken at the same time.

"Well," Hughes loudly called for some silence. "Let's decide back at the nursery!"

The children obeyed, running back to their previous destination. Gracia now saw herself alone with Hughes. As she thought clearly again, a feeling of comfort grew within her. Then she saw the man's lime-green eyes staring seriously at her again. "What's the matter, now?"

Hughes looked pleased. "You're happy again."

Gracia touched her lips at her unknowing action. He was again flirtatious! But this time it was accepted.

"I guess children bring out the best in you." Hughes' eyes then gazed at something else. "Like that one."

Gracia felt 'that one' tugging her skirt. "Mata?"

"Aren't ya gonna read me a story?" plead the child.

"Miss Stern!" cried the voice of Nurse Lucille.

The different cries fought for attention. But the adult one was the stronger influence, much to Gracia's disappointment. With a sigh, Gracia then turned to see the child's sad face. "Mata, I…"

Hughes intervened. "Don't worry, Mata," He scooped up the girl to his arm as if she was weightless. "I'll read you a story!"

"You?" Puzzlement fueled Gracia's reply.

"Sure, you go back to work." Hughes beamed a confident smile, flapping his hand. "Bye, bye!" Mata did as well. Their joint effort at farewell was a cute scene. Gracia was almost won over, just enough to go back to work. She looked back, twice.

* * *

But the unease continued as Gracia covered her errand. Expectations of a disappointed Mata filled her thoughts. Fortunately, five minutes of Lucille's request had ended fulfilled, leading to the return to Mata's room. Again she made haste. Her ears picked up a voice, Hughes' voice. The door before her had opened a little for viewing. Suspicion changed into surprise. There was Hughes reading to Mata. And what a reading! The storyteller changed his voice repeatedly, making faces and prancing around the girl. Mata sat hypnotized, smiling at the performance. She wasn't alone; several of the children sat on the floor to hear the story, though seeing the teller gave the better word. 

Gracia looked away from the opening, her eyes focused into her thoughts instead of what was before her. Her long-held beliefs were being attacked with this new evidence. Men didn't like children, but here was this man who was crazy about them. This strong, handsome man was doing something gentle. Was there ever a paradox in her whole experience? Perhaps it wasn't a paradox, Gracia found the cynical part of her mind speaking out. Was this Hughes' attempt to impress her again? Still, if it was another act, its basis was ignored in view of the performance. If Hughes was doing this only to get her attention, it nevertheless benefited the children. She'll let him get away with this.

Underneath that accusation, Gracia felt a deeper sense of disbelief for Hughes' intentions: How could any man go this far, just to get the attention of a homely girl like her?

Not for the first time, Gracia questioned the identity of this Maes Hughes: _Who is this man?_

Gracia walked into the room with a quiet grace. Hughes broke his performance. "And here comes the princess!"

Gracia, stunned by his compliment, soon found herself surrounded by the children. "Will you continue the story?" She asked.

"Gladly!" Hughes resumed.

At story's end, the children surrounded the two adults. "Can you both come back?" Dole, a boy of eight tugged Gracia's skirt pleadingly. "You and him?

The persuasion was strong on Gracia. The children wanted the both of them, and so did she. "Would you?" She asked kindly to Hughes.

Hughes went into a meditative stance. "Now let me see..." His gesture and delivery were not played in a dry manner. "Okay, I will...if only for a kiss from Miss Stern!"

Gracia's wave of gratitude suddenly got dammed up, with the return of her apprehensions. But this was not her choice. Her ears and eyes were awash with the children's chanting: "Kiss 'im! Kiss 'im! Kiss 'im!" They became a choir in their almost musical demand. "Okay, quiet!" Gracia cried. The children stopped, leaving one solitary chant: Hughes' chant. On realizing his abandoned situation, Hughes made a grin free of shame.

Gracia rolled her eyes. Still, he needed a reward. Her lips pecked the man's cheek. The children jumped and screamed in celebration. Hughes' own reaction was much subtler. With glowing red cheeks, he suddenly touched the back of his head. "Actually, I was going to come back anyway, but thanks for the bonus!"

Gracia sighed pleasantly. She then turned to the children. "I made you an apple pie. Who wants some?" She received many replies. Hughes included.

* * *

At work's end, the intern nurse and the cadet made their goodbyes to the children. It was a sad but warm moment. Now Gracia found herself alone with Mr. Hughes. She felt a strong effort to thank him for his work. But she felt apologetic for the darker prediction of her invitation. Never had failure taken a sweeter taste! The thought of him as an annoyance had lost some of its luster. Maybe she was forcing its dullness. 

(_"Sounds more like you can't trust yourself liking him."_)

"Um, Mr. Hughes…?"

The sound of infant crying interrupted her words. Hughes walked to the source, the adoption ward. Gracia saw the man's transfixed gaze upon a couple looking over a small baby. When the woman picked up the baby, Hughes let out a small sigh. There was a wonder in that sigh, mixed with want. And Gracia felt the same way.

"Mothers are something else," Hughes spoke happily, though not in his usual cheerful manner.

Gracia couldn't disagree with that remark. "What was your mother like?"

"Don't know." Hughes' face became sadder. "Never had one."

Gracia paused at this revelation.

Hughes followed up with a somber explanation. "She left the world when I came into it. He bowed his head, his voice dying to a near whisper. "Not my best entrance."

Pangs of sympathy hit the young woman. Gracia marveled at her own stupidity. Hughes had every right to reproach her. He didn't. Instead, he made a sigh, brightening his face. "So what's up?"

Gracia was surprised at this mood swing. So changed Hughes looked, almost as if his explanation was a lie. The swing rendered her delivery more difficult. "What I wanted to say..." Gracia slowed at the words. Why? She could always speak things efficiently. Saying something to Hughes felt like climbing a mountain.

"Miss Stern!" Nurse Lucille came up. "We're leaving."

Suddenly, the mountain was deemed unapproachable. "I have to go now." Gracia's defensive side was overwhelming.

Hughes' interested face dimmed a little. "Oh." His smile couldn't hide the disappointment on his face. "Well, I have to get going too. Examinations and all that." Again, his words increased to a more spirited tone. Disappointment was now gone in that positive demeanor. "Goodbye Miss Stern," He saluted her.

And another change came into Gracia. A small rebellion over that defensive wish came rushing out. "Please, call me Gracia!" The woman suddenly covered her mouth in shock. She rushed away. There would no closure. Right now Gracia Stern didn't know if she wanted an end anymore.

To Be Continued


	3. Nothing Completely Negative

The Woman He Loved

Chapter 3: Nothing Completely Negative

By claudius

* * *

Gracia Stern awoke in dazed consciousness. The growing awareness brought sickness. Her head felt like a hammer banged it. Her hazy awakening brought out some realization to her environment. This was not her bed. The surroundings were not her room. It was completely strange to her. From the unknown came disturbing meanings. 

Gracia tried to think with her battered mind. The headache gave a clue. But the enlightening memory was not reassuring. She was at the Hospital, handling medicine, when a family charged into the waiting room. There came this injured man screaming about a car accident. He looked bad. The wife and child were worse. This hospital was the closest facility for them, so the staff got to work without problem. A gory two hours were spent trying to save the family. The father was all right. The mother survived. The child…

Gracia now became conscious with raw sadness. She remembered the girl's injured body looking so terrible. But Gracia and the doctors were undaunted. They tried their best, until the final crushing defeat of their skills. The loss was hard even for her. She had seen death before, but not from one so young.

The ending of the shift saw a lonely intern nurse wracked by failure and guilt. Coming home to father was not the best resort. Rizzie had already left. And if there was someone else, Gracia didn't know where he lived. So Gracia went to a bar and asked for a drink. She lacked experience with alcohol. Some called it dangerous, but she heard others see it as a release from one's problem. Gracia didn't care what she used to soothe this broken feeling. Everything got hazy after that. She could only recollect someone with her. An unfamiliar man who was with her a lot. He seemed to like her very much…

The knowledge swiftly came to a stop. Fear now sparked the emotions. Gracia looked at herself. She opened her collar, than pulled her skirt. The bra underneath was not touched. Nor were her hips devoid of panties. Her chastity was safe. Now, virginity was a thing Gracia wanted to discard as soon as possible. But deflowering will be at a time and place of her own _conscious_ decision. Also around was her purse, with nothing stolen.

By now, Gracia was sitting up on the bed. Relief was a short appearance, leaving her with the pain physical and emotional. She began to cry, only to be interrupted by the door opening. Gracia wiped the tears away, placing on her strong mask. Was it the man who took advantage of her? Entering was a middle-aged woman. Plain, stern, just like her. The future was not endearing.

"So you're awake." The woman bluntly spoke.

Gracia massaged her brain. Awake was a good description. Comfortable was a different thing.

"Feel bad? Good." The woman showed very little interest.

Gracia tried to be cordial to the tactless truth. So she turned to questions. "Why am I doing here?" She spoke as best she could.

"One of my tenants begged me to take you in."

Gracia tried to explore her own thoughts to identify this benefactor. She was thinking about the man who may or may not tried to use her for some one night stand (Gracia suspected the former). She got up. That was the easy part. Balance became a burden. Each step cried for her to sit or lay back down. Well, drinking was one pastime she would never do again! "Who...is this tenant?"

"Mr. Maes Hughes." The nonchalance of the landlady's mention differed with her guest's reaction. Gracia's dim thinking lit up with recognition. She went colored. Maes again? That man was everywhere! The complaint lost its strength as she realized his respect to her situation. Maes certainly wasn't a regular man. "Where is his apartment?"

The landlady said it was Room 33. Gracia dazedly went for that destination. She saw steps. Great. She slowly walked up the stairs. It appeared to be shaking, or was that her?

Eventually Gracia got to the third floor. There was door 33. She knocked. Nothing. She knocked again. Still nothing. There was relief. And then came disappointment. Maybe she should leave. Then again, she could stay and wait. Her excitement chose the latter. Gracia heard noise. The door opened. Gracia's expectations were air as the man revealed himself. It became lead when she saw Roy Mustang. He looked tired. Also noted was his sweat pants being his only clothing. This revealed the rest of himself, like his sculptured pectorals and abs. But Gracia was ready this time for any muscular man meat.

"Yes?" He moaned impatiently.

Gracia was still surprised. "You live here too?"

"Yes." Mustang was as mannered as he was at the hospital a month ago.

Inside the room came another voice. A female's voice. "Roy, come back to bed."

Mustang seemed to have little interest in conversation. "See ya." He slammed the door. Gracia overheard his words beyond the door. "Just some drunk, homely, flat-chested frump flirting with me."

Gracia became as stiff as a board, each syllable of Mustang's words knocking her spiritual self. She wondered if she could get away with murder. Sure, Roy Mustang was a young man, some uncouth libertine attracted to any pretty face for sexual reasons. She expected such remarks, or so she thought.

_Drunk?_ Alright. So true.

_Homely?_ Okay...No problem.

_Flat-chested?_ Oh well. Gracia attained passivity with considerable effort.

_Frump!?! _Forget fortitude! In this pissed mood, Gracia marched down the stairs and outside of the building. Her rage was stronger than her hangover. Forget Maes Hughes! Chances are he also had a floozy himself, or he may be sharing Roy's. Libertines flock together!

"Hey!"

Gracia heard Maes Hughes' voice. A turn revealed nothing. And then suddenly he appeared! He didn't run or walk to her. He just dropped from above like some circus acrobat. "Are you okay?" His question showed concern more than interest.

"I am," Gracia kept her mood tight and suspicious.

"Goody," Hughes gave his familiar smile. But the cherub face couldn't hide a soft bruise marking his lip. Gracia ignored it.

"I saw you down here and thought to drop in."

Gracia saw his use of words confusing. "Down here?"

"I usually climb up to my apartment." Hughes proudly pointed to the building. "I was actually heading to the window near Mrs. Topuns' room, to see if you're okay."

Maes' words of sympathy mellowed Gracia's mood. It melted her resolution to leave without any gratitude. Only the residue of stubborn selfishness remained. She regained enough composure to say "Thank you."

"Uh, yeah," Hughes bashfully put his hand to his neck. "It was nothing…I mean, I did nothing to you!" he awkwardly claimed his innocence.

"Yes, I noticed," Gracia did her best reply despite her state. "You were a gentleman." Coursing all reserve strength in her, Gracia continued to look at her rescuer. Again, she noted the bruised lip. "Did you…get into a fight?"

"Oh, some jerk got lucky," Maes skirted the issue. "Nothing much." His hand exposed some pink knuckles.

"You need to put something on it."

"I have some iodine in the bathroom."

"Yes...well," Gracia knew that path was definitely blocked.

"Yeah," Maes was just as anxious. "I couldn't let you stay with me, what with Roy getting some action. Besides, if I took you in, some rumors will fly, in ways you wouldn't like."

Gracia nodded with understanding. The thankfulness was there, but once again there were those hesitant feelings to move them forward. "I have to leave." She didn't want to. "My father must be worried sick."

A disappointing calm came to Maes. "Yeah, I guess he must be. Can I at least escort you to the bus?"

This time Gracia had no reluctance to refuse. Indeed, the walk was devoid of any discomfort. Irritation had given way to excitement for the young woman. If she acted unusual due to the hangover, Hughes made no note of it. He talked about sharing that apartment with Roy. They wanted privacy, a word that had a series of meanings for Gracia (and she saw the supporting evidence). It was an okay place, except for the heating problems. Fortunately, winter had now gone.

"I was hanging around, when I saw you drunk."

Gracia got embarrassed.

It wasn't helped by Hughes' limited sensitivity. "I take it that was your first time? For beginners, two drinks and your sloshed."

A little salt fell on Gracia's wounded pride. Thanks for reminding me, she growled mentally to herself. "Um, did I do or say anything during the night?"

"Besides the striptease?" Maes was deadpan. "No."

"You're joking right?" With a curious glare, Gracia was half skeptical, half convinced.

"Yes...about the striptease!" He quickly corrected. "But not a word. You said nothing. Nothing at all."

Gracia's fears were dispelled. Good.

Again, a bus was located and boarded. The one thing missing was Hughes asking Gracia for a date. No request passed his lips as he said goodbye. She found that strange.

* * *

Gracia scampered to the family home. Did her best to scamper, that is. She felt like coming apart any second. What was so good about being drunk? She didn't see the fun at all. Once the house appeared in view, Gracia composed herself. She breathed on her hand and sniffed it. No alcoholic residue. She walked to the door and opened it. Time to enter the maelstrom. "Dad, I'm home!" 

Of course, at the Stern House, the maelstrom was a slight indifferent breeze. In the den, her father was at his sofa, reading the paper. The paper lowered, and his look connected with Gracia's. "You weren't here last night."

Expecting anger, Gracia lied. "A nurse was sick. I took her place."

The father nodded at the excuse and returned to his reading. Gracia watched his nonchalance, and turned away with acceptance. She should have known better. No _I was worried sick!_ Not a _Where were you?_ Just a _You weren't here last night_. Well, at least he noticed. Gracia always looked at the best when her father was concerned. Would his attention grow if he knew the truth?

Gracia entered her room. It was nothing special, save for the velvet chair near the window, and the exquisitely carved mirror. Gracia had taste on stuff. What of herself? That was now checked through the mirror. The reflection was not flattering. The drunken sleeping had put her hair in a tangled mess. She looked like that to Mr. Mustang and Maes? Removing the hairpins softened the chaos somewhat. A head-shake brought her long brown hair down to her shoulders.

Stripping off her shirt, Gracia saw her semi-clad breasts part of the reflection. Her hands fingered the soft surface. Like tomatoes, she joked as a growing adolescent. She tweaked the large brown nipples. Then she palmed the breasts, squeezing them to look larger. The treatment wasn't hopeful. They were hardly nonexistent, but they lacked the sizes given to Chest or Rizzie. The comparison made their true assets dimmer. No wonder that jerk called her flat-chested!

She saw a sobering look. For a while, Gracia had ignored her shortcomings and earlier rejections. It was her work that mattered. Forget the men, Gracia said to herself, she was a great student nurse! But the wounds festered and hurt now. Her father never called her beautiful. At the parties of her aunt's invitation, no young man asked her for a dance. Plain Jane she is.

But Maes thought her beautiful. But he was a man too. And yet Gracia allowed herself to fall into the comfort of his compliments. Oh sure, he was flattering her. Maybe he did have some wicked hidden motive. But if such interest were genuine, then Gracia would have woke up in his apartment missing more than a purse. That fact was undeniable.

Gracia's complacent thought shattered with yesterday's memory. How selfish and narrow a woman she is, thinking about herself when a child died! The guilt, now and then, combined and returned her to a sadder state.

Still, one thought persevered in Gracia's mire of sad emotion: Maes Hughes did a nice thing.

* * *

"Where can I find Cadet Hughes?" 

"He's in the Gym."

By the cadet's direction, Gracia headed for the Gymnasium. In her arm was a basket carrying a cherry pie. She had definitely seen enough evidence that Maes wouldn't throw this away. Nevertheless, as she walked closer to the destination, Gracia had doubts. Alternatives ran around her head. There could have been an easier way to get Maes this gift. She could have left it at his apartment door. But what if he wasn't there? What if Mr. Mustang took it and ate it with his lady?

Then she will personally knock at the door and see Maes personally. But again, what if Mr. Mustang answered the door? She wasn't going to give the pie to him. Besides, what if the man at the door was Hughes? That is, a shirtless Hughes with a woman? Ladies men do flock together. Gracia could leave the pie to the landlady and have her give it only to Maes. But these contingency plans lost their potency. No matter how many ways considered, Gracia wanted to give the pie to Maes personally. And she preferred it in an area with a solitary, _womanless_ Maes. And the school seemed the best environment. Hopefully he won't be with any female companion. Gracia already had worse things bothering her. Enough to have her scrap this plan and eat the pie herself. But Hughes did help her. No matter his motives, he did the right thing. And Gracia had to repay him somehow. She would do it for any person, even Roy Mustang. But Maes wasn't Roy Mustang, else Gracia wouldn't be a little enthusiastic about it. Okay, _enthusiastic_ was understated. _Excited_ is the better word. Imagining the man's response was very prominent in her thoughts.

Entering the building, Gracia came to a certain part of the hallway. On one side was the locker room. That had a lot of thoughtful possibilities. Distant sounds came from the opposite side. It led to a half-opened door. Gracia moved closer, leaving the door inviolate as she passed through it. The room was great and almost empty, save for one dancing man.

As Gracia moved closer, she saw the dancer as Maes. He wore sweat pants and a white tank top. The shirt was very loose, exposing the top of his chest and stomach whenever he turned or leaped. Nothing adorned his muscled arms, showing those biceps and triceps pulling and straightening in poses. It was very impressive. Gracia may not like men, but that didn't mean they weren't good looking.

Her interest improved by his exercise. Maes' arms, torso, and legs snapped and contorted in many poses. He held a small knife in his hand. That hand's wrist swung and rotated. Its arm twisted and turned like a pouncing snake. He leaped and turned, pointing the blade at different directions. Each stance he made looked serious, strong. Very unlike the happy-go-lucky man!

After this constant turning and posing, Hughes stood very still. His arm turned with lightning. The knife went flying to the wall, hitting a target with perfect aim. What skill! Gracia was awed in her impressed feelings. She clapped her hands.

Hughes quickly turned to her. The serious stance quickly vanished, replaced by a very awkward one. He nervously stood there, hands to his back, face reddened. "Hiya!"

Gracia walked closer. Her nose twittered. Maes was sweating; drops leaked on his face and arms, with stains on his undershirt. "Nice moves."

"Yeah," Hughes gasped, putting on a sweat jacket. "I train a lot." He raised his arms in flexing motion. "I must be sweating like a pig."

"I would be lying if I said you didn't." Gracia shrugged her nose. The scent rankled her, but in a strange way, it delighted her. She kept her smile, walking to the target. "And what is that?" She pointed to the weapon.

Maes jumped to the scene, pulling the blade out. "Oh, it's a Push-Knife." His hand leaned to show the small hand-piece. "Its handle makes it very maneuverable." He showed it off like it was some brand new toy.

Truth be told, Gracia wasn't really interested in weapons. But she said nothing.

"Now it's my turn. Is that a pie I smell?"

Gracia blushed, presenting the basket. "I thought you might want it...as your reward."

Maes happily took the basket, his mouth humming the future taste.

This would be the moment to leave. Gracia did not leave. She savored his happy reaction. Then Maes raised his eyes to her. "Um, is there any chance...I...can ask something else?"

Gracia thought on the subject of this something.

Hughes was suddenly hard with words, as if he was uncertain with what to say. "I'd like to see…more of your skills."

Gracia froze.

Maes' eyes kept switching to her and the basket in flustered reaction. "Can we maybe…have a picnic together?"

Gracia shared the nervousness as well. True, the safety of his wish was relieving, but what it implied was not. "I…guess so. At the park?"

"Yes." He quickly answered.

"When?" She quickly asked.

"Your choice."

"Well, I'm busy tonight and tomorrow."

"How about the day after tomorrow?" Maes jumped on the date.

"Fine," Gracia jumped the answer too. The strength behind it wasn't full or empty.

"Good!" Hughes reacted happily.

"Well, then," Gracia nervously spoke, taking away the basket. "I'll save this for tomorrow."

Hughes was disappointed. "Oh, can't I have a snack?" He hovered over the basket, attempting some retrieval.

Gracia pulled the basket away. "It'll spoil your appetite."

Hughes sulked, crossing his arms and darting his face away from Gracia. "Fine. I'm going to the shower."

Gracia saw him leave the room. Her departure was full of considerations for Hughes' wish and his present activities. Of him taking a shower, scrubbing all those wet muscles...that tight buttocks...his 'small'…

Gracia shook her head to free herself from such thoughts. It did little good.

* * *

Two days later, Gracia added bread, jams, salad, fruits, vegetables, and chicken to the basket. For the first time, she was going to be alone with Maes (she was calling him on a first name basis, wasn't she?). No doctor, no children, no best friend would be around. But then, what could be so lonely about a park? 

Nervously, Gracia conditioned herself to do this debt. It wasn't like Maes was asking for her body so he could do this and that or whatever! He was asking her to be with him, alone. What can happen? A lot.

Returning to the city, Gracia passed the park. She eyed its green fields. So hard to believe it was snow a month ago. She also noticed gray skies forming. Maybe she should cancel this picnic. But she walked to the Boarding House anyway.

On entrance, Gracia came to the case of stairs to climb. Completely sober now, she saw the path looking much easier. And then she spotted the man on top. It was Maes Hughes. His lack of a uniform was interesting. He wore a brown suit of coat and slacks. His white shirt was worn carelessly, with the collar unbuttoned and the tails hanging out. Clothes hung on him like the feathers of a peacock. He skipped down the steps, eyes hungrily viewing the basket.

Then came a loud roar outside. A roar of nature. Gracia spotted the opened door of the lobby. Rain hit the floor outside.

"Darn it," Gracia fumed.

Maes scratched his chin. "That's too bad."

"I'm sorry." Gracia wasn't sure if she was happy.

"Don't worry." The weather did not clash with Maes' mood, if his face was any clue. "We'll make do with my room."

Gracia took all this in. Public park _Out_. Private room _In_. She had a bad idea about this.

* * *

Maes Hughes moaned loud. His movements caused springing sounds from the bed. Both were signs of his pleasure. "That's good." He panted. 

Gracia's cool face hid her amazement. Such deception became an effort once she got a kiss on the cheek. She heard his congratulations, "You are a woman of skill." That really added to her flustered silence in this matter! Maes then continued his play, mouthing more of Gracia's tasty abilities.

And Gracia began to feast on her own, tasting the chicken. The rain outside grew heavier with its drops. Gracia paid some attention to it, feeling some residue of disappointment. The majority of it was elation with Maes' compensation for the picnic. With the rain, and Maes' decision to have the picnic in his apartment, Gracia was not altogether supportive; She suspected a less chivalrous overtone. The fears crystallized as she saw Maes put the picnic cloth on the bed. He hopped upon the mattress, patting the empty space with invitation. Uh oh. But then he took the basket first, laying the food innocently on the bed. All suspicions evaporated. As the minutes passed with eating and food, the insecurities became as solid as the air. She was having a good time.

"Why didn't you tell me you were a great cook?"

"You never asked. But didn't you already know?"

"Okay, spoil my discovery scene!" Maes playfully sulked. He relaxed, patting his belly. "Better watch out on too much of a good thing. Hate to go back to being fatso."

The examination memory dominated Gracia's mind. "I find that very hard to believe."

Maes was open. "I was _this_ big!" He lifted his arms to a certain level, presenting- or exaggerating- the extent of his former weight. "Had to lose it all when I entered the Academy."

"So, why did you go to the Academy?"

"Nowadays being a soldier is the thing to do. Besides, I wanted to see my friend again. Oh, the ordeal of losing weight!" Maes made theatrics, putting his arm to his face. "I kept telling myself over and over, _'I gotta be with Roy! I gotta be with Roy!'_" A gazillion chants of that, plus a year of back-breaking workouts, and here is the handsome stud before you!"

By the time Maes ended his life story, Gracia stuck her mind to the mentioned name. "Roy? You mean your roommate?"

"Yeah, _that_ Roy," Hughes' cheer dimmed somewhat. "I take it you talked with him?"

Gracia felt secure enough to have some fun. "Oh, he's very handsome," She eyed Maes' eyes starting to spark with envy. "And an absolute jerk!"

Maes quickly dissolved his fear. "Hey, it's okay. Roy makes me feel the same way…sometimes." The content on his face changed from envy to respect. "But Roy isn't always like that. Nothing is completely negative."

"And what is he like?" And Gracia saw Maes scratching his head, looking stumped for an answer. "There's something about him. He's big…great. He gives this presence that, I dunno, makes one believe in him. Not believe everything he says, mind you. But you're convinced that he's greatness in the making. You know he can do something important."

Gracia was speechless. Such conviction in this man's regard for his friend! Very confusing too. From what she saw of Roy, minus the pretty face and chiseled body, Gracia found _greatness_ a rather exaggerated compliment. "And does he have any ambition?"

"He won't admit it in a million years, but Roy actually wants to help people. Not a bad thing. Not the most popular, but I don't have a problem with it."

Gracia couldn't laugh at this. With Maes' loyal and steadfast look, he seemed ready to attack anyone who found his belief to be baloney. Roy didn't look that great. But Maes really believed in him. She might as well be complementary. "Well, he did stop to see you at the hospital."

And the glow on Maes' face really illuminated. "The day I was born. When I met you!"

Now a snicker opened from Gracia's lips. Corn was definitely in those words, sharing the conviction of his view of Roy. She felt…strangely comfortable.

"Well, being Mustang's Dog wasn't the only thing I got from school." Hughes took out a push knife from his coat. He raised his free hand to point. "Do you see that spot on the ceiling?"

Gracia saw and got an accurate premonition on what was going to happen next.

With lightning speed, Maes threw his hand. The knife hit its mark. He nodded with an assured, egotistical tone.

"Hmph!" Gracia shrugged this act. It was her turn now. She took out a banana. "Can you hand me a plate?"

Maes complied. Gracia peeled the banana, and placed it on the plate. Then she grabbed a knife from the basket. For a moment she paused. The pause ended with her repeatedly slicing the banana in lightning fashion. With a smile, she turned to Maes. His eyes popped with a gaping mouth. Smugly, Gracia planted a banana slice into that mouth. She nonchalantly ate the rest.

Maes swallowed the piece, regaining sanity. "And _why_ aren't you in the army?"

Gracia added a serious look. "I don't believe in solving problems through violence."

"Hey, somebody's gotta do it! So…that trick wasn't natural right?"

As the picnic continued, Gracia's hesitance faded like an ice cube under heat. This caused some doors to open. "I learned it from my mother and my aunt."

Hughes slowed his eating. "I wish I got something like that from my mom. Dad said I only got her smile." Despite his best efforts, he couldn't hide a sigh from his mouth.

Gracia quieted to this sad recollection. She knew nothing of Maes' mother, so she couldn't say something about it that might offend him. She needed to change this awkward moment. Help came. Unfortunately, it was Roy Mustang. "Making out with the nurse yet?"

Gracia jerked her head and burst. "Of course not!" She denied these shenanigans, bearing some new doubt. "We're having a picnic here!"

Taking off his wet coat, Mustang's devilish eye cast his doubt on this idea.

Now, Gracia always was a well-mannered girl to any male. Just as long as said male wasn't a jerk to her. Still, although her experiences showed Roy Mustang was a jerk, she treated him with respect.

"Yeah, Roy!" Maes was equally uncomfortable. "Gracia's not one of those old decrepit housewives you sneak here every night."

Roy snubbed the accusation. "Well, I missed lunch, and since you asked, I'll join you."

"That's funny," Maes panned any inviting overtone. "I don't recall saying anything like an invitation."

But Roy pulled up a chair. Gracia saw Maes grow irritated. "Don't you have somebody's cigarette to light?" He asked.

Mustang got to work, eating some salad, and a chicken strumpet. "I take it this is your cooking?" His black eyes fell on Gracia.

"Yes, it is mine." Gracia admitted with defense.

Fortunately, the new man showed no disdain. "I can really tell," he threw his charm. "Better than the slop from the mess room, not to mention my roommate's"

"And yours?" Maes faked a smile. "Oh yes, I completely forgot. You don't lift a finger in cooking."

Mustang snubbed the insult. "I'm too busy becoming a State Alchemist."

Gracia knew the title. She heard many things about these people who can transform objects by physical power. The reactions were mixed: visionaries to some, monsters to others. "So, Mr. Mustang…"

"Please, call me Roy."

Gracia thought she heard Maes grumble. Not she was swallowing the Mustang's openness one bit. "Roy, can you turn lead into gold?"

"Nope," Roy looked annoyed by that answer. "I can create fire."

"Can you?" Gracia felt a little impressed.

Roy's eyes twinkled. "I could show you."

"Let's not, Roy." Maes' voice was growling. Gracia heard that. Evidently the hero-worship was not present right now. Male friendship is so weird.

There came a boom of thunder. The light shorted out. A dimness carried the room.

"I'll get candles and a match." Maes began to move.

"Don't worry," Roy's words spouted with smugness. "Leave it to me to solve the problem."

Then came the sound of water splashing. "Oh, how clumsy of me, Roy!" Maes' plea was unconvincing.

Then the plate before Maes 'independently' upset and poured on him. "Sorry!" Roy gave his own apology.

The lights returned and a battle began. Gracia watched the crossfire of food between Roy and Maes. This was getting too much. What did she expect from men! "Stop this!" She walked between the crossfire. A piece of pie hit her face. She went very still, slowly removing the slimy gel from her face. Her eyes spotted a horrified Maes and an uncomfortable Roy. But the sight of such compassion was opposite to her present view of the two of them.

"Gracia," Maes walked to her with tenderness. His advances were avoided. Gracia was in no mood for apologies. She walked to the side of the bed. Her hand grabbed a pillow. Its touch brought justice roaring into her mind. She beaned Roy with the soft casing, and turned it to Maes. Maes blocked it, retreating for some artillery. Now the battle resumed with a third principal. Each found a fort of defense. Roy the chair. Maes the headboard. Gracia the footboard. Food and feathers riddled the room and each other. The only cries were laughter.

In the midst of battle, Gracia grabbed the jar of raspberry jam. Giggling, she removed the lid, and flung it at Maes. The jam splat on Maes' shirt. He froze in fake shock. "She shot me!" With a fake scream that sounded like a yawn, Maes collapsed to the floor. Very still for a moment, his head then arose. He dipped his finger in the 'blood' and mouthed it. "Delicious!"

But Gracia herself froze when she saw the 'blood.' It returned something. The dead child. The mirth died out. What was she doing now? How dare she! How dare they!

"Stop it!" Gracia repeated her wish, louder, shriller, and more intense than her previous demand. Again, Maes and Roy looked at her with surprise.

Gracia calmed in surface. "I'm sorry," she apologized in a hurry. She grabbed her basket and ran out of the room. She continued going down the stairs to the door. Before she was outside, the way got blocked. Hughes landed from outside. Gracia was surprised. More like stupid, since she was aware of his acrobatics.

"Let me go." Gracia tried to be civil.

But Maes was very apologetic. "I'm so sorry! Idiocy! A very bad day at work, right?"

With a frown, Gracia looked away.

"So bad that you can't see any good at all?" Getting silence, Maes seemed to understand. "I won't ask about it."

This respect to her privacy was enough for Gracia to speak to him. "I'm sorry. It's just…having fun there. It's not right." She wanted to leave.

"Who says?" Maes spoke. "I've been trying to be positive for awhile."

Gracia held the defenses to any advice. She wasn't going to be taken by Maes' golden tongue. But Maes did not appear to be flirtatious or flattering. He looked very sad. "My dad died a few months ago."

Gracia reeled from this admission. Then she remembered Maes' worries about having a heart condition like his father.

She saw Maes looking very uncomfortable. "I was here when I got the message. I tried to reach home, but it was too late." Each word sounded hard for him.

Sympathy washed upon Gracia's grief. Sharing is nice. But she wasn't going to console. Oh, whom is she kidding? "Again, I'm sorry."

Maes leaned on the door, continuing some somber recollection. "I never knew my mom, so all I had was my dad. He had the bad ticker for years. Even as a kid, I knew that heart would stop someday. But I guess I expected it to last longer."

Gracia looked at his dour expressions. This was a different Maes Hughes. "It must have been a burden to you."

"Oh, I managed to keep a smile on my face." Maes choked an artificial snicker. He tried to recompose himself, like the grief was something to shake off. "I've been doing that these last few months. Finding the bright side." He raised his head to the raining sky. "I know death's here. I'm becoming a soldier. Probably going to see a lot of killing in a war." Hughes grew a little stronger. "But I don't want to live like I'm dead too. So…I look for the positive. And if having fun can make the pain go away for a few minutes, I'm game! I don't want to believe anything is so absolutely negative."

Gracia felt this philosophy sounded a little heartless. "Well, I'm afraid there are things that are completely negative. What's so positive about a child's death?"

There wasn't a quick answer. "You got me there," Hughes looked uncertain, scratching his head. "Sometimes the positive thing is hard to take."

Gracia agreed with that.

"But I think I found something good in this bad thing."

Gracia was surprised, but willing. _Tell me!_

"From it, I see you're a very caring person."

Gracia glared at this flattery.

Hughes continued anyway. "I asked people about you. They all told me that you are Ice Glacier; cold, unfeeling, the ice princess. But I saw you with those children, and I see your grief now. The rumors don't fit you at all. You're all heart, Gracia."

Suddenly, Gracia's dark feelings lessened. Not happy, but okay. Her righteous outburst and its reasons now became selfish pouting based on hypocrisy (she should make a list of this week's blunders!). But was she really hearing the truth? Maes Hughes was this happy-go-lucky man to her. She should doubt these new words as some scheme to play at her sympathies. But he appeared so serious. And yes, hard as it may be to consider, there was some truth to his words. She felt okay, at least for now.

Maes became energized. "Now that I'm back on that topic, I'm going back to the positive!" He raised his hand out. "Wanna make an alliance and throw more food at Roy?"

"No," Gracia's response sounded quick and defiant. "But I'll help you clean up."

Hughes turned happy again. Hands together, they went back upstairs. "Y'know, we could let Roy do the cleaning. Get that layabout to actually do something!"

Gracia smirked, as her inner self surrendered. Maes Hughes kept screwing up every bad thought she had about him. Why can't she stay mad at him? "Aren't you supposed to be Mustang's Dog?"

She got Maes' smooth stare. "I'm the kind of pet that turns against his master."

* * *

To be continued 


	4. Truth andLies?

The Woman He Loved

Chapter 4: Truth and…Lies?

By Claudius

* * *

"How do I look?" Gracia asked nervously. She spoke to another person behind her, an older woman. "See for yourself," this woman advised.

Gracia feared the unknown outcome. She could be bald, or have some beehive hairdo. After all, this was the work of her eccentric Aunt Anya! But Gracia was afraid of little, so she looked at the possible damage. Spotting the reflection broke her disappointment. The work on her hair was actually nice. A good amount of it hung down, with bangs on her forehead. A drop on her amount of hairpins gave the hair a chance to breathe, allowing it to look better. She did look good. Gracia could smile.

"Hopefully that's the end of the old frump look," Anya quipped with optimism. "You're still too young for _that_."

Gracia didn't shirk from these words. She had begun to dislike her old severe hairstyle, needing a change. Having Aunt Anya do the job granted that wish. Still, she wondered if shortening her hair could portray a better look. But it was only a thought. Right now she had no courage to slice the hair she grew since childhood. No point giving her Aunt ideas!

Aunt Anya joined Gracia in the mirror. Her rounder face, frillier hair, and made up complexion contrasted with Gracia's slender and modest look. But these two shared the same eyes. Anya was the twin sister of Eleanor, her mother. This resemblance wasn't only in looks (well, a long time ago, before the aunt made cosmetic differences), but in heart and devotion as well. Of course, Anya was more vain and free spirited. She had been married twice, still searching for the perfect man. Gracia looked up to her aunt, and the love was mutual. When Eleanor (or Elly) died, Anya wanted to take full custody of Gracia. Her brother-in-law refused. Thus Gracia saw the shining moment of her father's devotion to her. Unfortunately, it had been a long time since the sun rose (but it will be again!). Still, this failure didn't estrange aunt and niece, as the latter always counted on the former for advice, knowledge, and support.

"I wonder what dad would think?"

"Feh!" Anya turned away, rolling her eyes with sickness expressed. "Probably won't care."

Gracia bowed her face in annoyance. But she kept quiet. Her aunt never liked her father, and she never heard the end of this complaint. But the familiarity only went so far. When Anya began to condemn, Gracia saw time to interrupt. "That's enough!" Her words were loud, like a lion.

Aunt Anya was stunned by her niece's roar, but was undaunted. "Gracia, we both know your father. Whatever ability he had to love got lost when Elly died."

"Thanks for the concern," Gracia coldly thanked her aunt.

Still, her aunt was as compassionate as possible. "It's you I'm worried about," Anya pressed her true sympathy forward. "Don't waste your life with your father."

But Gracia still felt defensive, keeping silent.

"Sweetie, you have to start your life someday," Anya was serious and hopeful. Gracia can only predict her solution. "Go find someone to love; who'll love back."

Yes, Gracia found herself right. "Go find a man?"

"Go find someone who loves you." Anya interpreted this advice.

"Hence, a man," Gracia rolled her eyes.

Anya sighed. "Sweetie, I know you love your father, but don't judge every man by him."

Again on the subject of her father! Anya loved to throw those thumb screws.

"Take for instance that cadet you told me about. He sounds very…"

"We're not dating," Gracia interrupted again. She was half-sure, half-saddened over this fact.

"Has he asked you?"

Gracia didn't answer. When Hughes attempted to ask, she shot him down. At present, he said nothing. No point getting a 'Be careful what you wish for' from her aunt, so she kept silent.

"Too bad," Anya fingered her chin, with puckered lips and hungry eyes. "He sounds like a fine man," Her voice curved with a tone that Gracia knew all too well. "Aunt Anya!" She snapped, full of embarrassment. But no disgust tinged that reaction. After all, it was her aunt who taught Gracia about sex. The info was rather exciting. Despite her defense, Gracia enjoyed Anya's interest in her life. Not that she would always take her advice in return.

After some talk and tea, Gracia reluctantly noted the time. "I have to go."

"Fine," Anya accepted the departure as much as she could. At the end, she embraced her niece. " I love you."

Gracia didn't flinch for this. She couldn't refuse such affection. "Love you too."

* * *

Gracia's new hair came as a surprise to the staff (Though 'Ogre' Schmidt gave no notice whatsoever). The Ice Glacier had let down her hair- literally. But she didn't flaunt it by moving and standing around public places just to get noticed. She performed her usual rounds, the latest work exploring the medicine ward. Time to replenish the cabinets again! She must have memorized these medications by now. This internship will be over in a few weeks. Then, with one more internship to complete, she'll be _Nurse_ Gracia Stern! The orphanage was on her list for the final requirement.

The silence proved temporary. Gracia's ears picked up sounds. It was a conversation being spoken from the outside. Gossip. How rude, not to mention interesting! Ignoring the complaint and embracing the fun, Gracia leaned closer to the voices.

"Heard about Ally Parnum?"

Suddenly, the gossip lost its flavor. The name had a discomforting power on Gracia. Ally was popular with men, _physically_. The laundress entertained many cadets, including a friend she knew.

"I just checked on her. She's got syphilis."

_Syphilis._ A sweat dripped on her brow as Gracia registered that word. Her mind stiffened in confusion. She hoped it was a mishearing, but the gossipers' repeat gave its reality. The disease meant a horrible blow for those afflicted. Gracia only needed the word itself to knock her. Maes? Usually, the hearing of one bad thing would color the ideas Gracia had on the man. Today brought a more deadly view to that image. Her terrible knowledge twisted the picture with its implications. Maes' handsome, strong body and mind, soon to be blind, insane, disfigured, twitching and shrunken! Each adjective sounded and felt worse inside her. Tears touched her cheeks.

Gracia soon left the hospital. 'Rizzie' and 'Chest' promised to cover for her. Let the Ogre rage! She had to find Hughes. Her mind focused on truth, and let nothing divert it! With such a corny thought, Gracia wondered if she was making much about nothing. Perhaps Ally wasn't yet infected when she…she…

Gracia shirked the vision. Like she needed worse thought-images right now! If it was nothing, she still had to warn Maes. She had to tell him if it was true anyway. For the man himself and any other woman he…knew. The possible truth crushed her heart. But Gracia felt more for the man's sickness than his discreet habits. Poor Maes.

Going to the apartment lacked the man. Checking the gym led to nothing. Maybe she can contact Roy Mustang? Jumping into a creek sounded like a better alternative.

"Gracia?"

Fate smiled on Gracia. The summoned turned at her fortunate stroke of luck. Hughes came running, garbed in a drenched sweat suit. "That is you, isn't it?"

Gracia was suddenly reminded of her hirsute style. Hughes really liked it.

"I was just doing some jogging."

_Exercise._ Gracia despaired at that term. Soon it will be no use for him, with his muscles atrophying and paralyzed by the disease. And he looked so good! This vision, plus Hughes' usual cheerful face, made the truth harder to reveal. But the disease will happen regardless of her silence. Well, the guy should frown some more!

Gracia closed her eyes and bowed her head. "It's about Ally."

Hughes calmed over this announcement. "Ally…" His face cooled to shock. "You know about her?"

Gracia nodded heavily.

Hughes' brow cringed at this private fact. He palmed his temple in discomfort. "Um, you see…"

Gracia breathed to the point. "She has syphilis."

And Hughes went stone silent. Not a good sign! The dark truth was clear to her, almost overwhelming to the point of fainting.

Maes made his motions very slowly. But his reaction was a calm one. "You don't say."

"Maes, I'm serious!" Gracia showed no mood for happy-go-lucky attitudes. "If you are sick, then you should tell me the other ladies you've…you know. They might be infected too."

"Well, that'll be easy." Hughes uneasily smirked. He turned his back to her, rubbing his head. He looked around his surroundings, as if looking for something. His hidden head cringed. "Can I tell you a secret?"

Her heart low and pained, Gracia complied to the condemned's request.

Returning to face her, Hughes nervously wiped his head. "Y'see, there's a lot of expectations in this army school. We have to be macho men and all that," He emphasized these words by flexing his arms. "And to be that, you have to have a sex life."

Gracia shut her lips so tightly they might bleed. Why did she want to hear this?

"Y'know, flirt with a girl, bed her, than onto the next one!"

Gracia understood. Not the part on why she had to hear this, though.

"Y'see, Gracia, I'm…" Nerve escaped from Hughes' face. He again looked around his surroundings, almost paranoid. Gracia found this symptom of inevitable madness unbearable. He went silent for a moment, as if the words became tied to his mouth. The release was soft, touched with humiliation. "I haven't lost the flower yet."

Gracia understood the phrase, which is why she was shocked. "You're a virgin?"  
Hughes squirmed and cringed. "Announce it to everyone, why don't you?" He hushed the woman. "I'm talking about a real stigma here! Not as bad as having Ishbalan blood, but very uncomfortable for any man in the school."

Gracia finally could breathe. The shock destroyed the weight on her heart, the relief causing some smirking. "So…you lied about it?" A sense of mirth was growing, hard to contain.

Maes sadly nodded. "Ally was the best choice to play this charade with. I bribed her to say I was one of her 'customers.' When I did visit, I kept the curtains shut and we just talked. I promise you, the closest I ever touched her was a peck on the cheek. I doubt that means I'm infected."

Gracia shook her head very enthusiastically. The calm lips were forced by the urge of laughter.

"If you don't believe me, you can make tests on my freakish nature." Hughes managed to grin in his embarrassment.

As much as Gracia wanted to see another examination (she might as well admit it to herself), she refused the offer. She found Hughes' humility genuine. Yes, she was convinced. Still, curiosity took hold of her. "So, you haven't tried…you know, sex?"

Nerve returned to the man as he shook his head. "Don't get me wrong, the celibate life doesn't interest me. But don't they call it 'making love' for a reason? Call me weird, but I prefer to do it that way." He spoke calmer, very assured of himself. "Making love with, well, love! I don't want to screw some gal and go to other conquests. I want to feel love in its most animal and passionate form, but with someone I care about and vice versa."

Gracia said nothing else, stunned at this new revelation. The laughter had gone, replaced by this hot, burning feeling.

Hughes noticed it. "Wow, looks like I'm not the only one sweating!"

Realizing the meaning, Gracia wiped her wet brow, regaining her earlier composure. Her hand was touched.

"So, our secret?" Hughes anxiously awaited her trust.

Gracia nodded.

Hughes sealed the promise with a smile. "I know I could trust you!" But this was no time to drink a toast. Maes was the first to sight the real problem. "Poor Ally," He toned with apology. "I wonder who gave her it?" He took an accusatory look, very serious.

"Obviously some man who didn't care for nothing but his own pleasure."

Gracia noticed Hughes suddenly staring at her. Did she say something wrong? Maes said nothing about it. "Poor woman. I'll try to find out the culprit. Or anyone else infected."

"Like Roy?"

Hughes sighed. "I know for a fact Roy has never known Ally in the physical. He likes his women lean."

"That's for sure," Gracia remembered the room incident with sour tones.

"Do you want to come with me…to find out?" Hughes spit out the last words.

"No, I have to get back to work."

"Okay," Hughes was a little disappointed. "Nice of you to tell me personally."

"Your welcome." But Gracia refused to depart. There was something else. "Um, Maes?"

Hughes did not leave. "Yes?"

"Um, I've been seeing the orphans." Gracia found her own nerve fleeting. Why can't she talk to this man? "We're all going to the pool at the Academy. Would you like to come? The kids want you." The last sentence went quicker than the rest.

Hughes stood straight and tall, saluting her as if she was a general. "I will not disappoint them, ma'am."

* * *

Gracia returned to the hospital in a contrasted mood than before. Nurse Schmidt did get mad at her (_mad_ was a subtle word for her true reaction). But it was worth it. Maes was all right. And his romantic views, so similar to her own! There was always something new to learn about him. She felt like the only one who knew a dirty secret (which it is, according to this school's code); all knowing and smarter than anyone else. The excitement caused her to think wildly. Hughes never made love with anyone. He was in the position to lose it with somebody else, with someone he loved…

Hold it, Gracia! The excitement came to an abrupt halt, dulled by rational ideas. Her maidenhood wasn't as shakable (as yet). She never dated Hughes, so forget about jumping into the sack! She wasn't like…like Ally. Gracia now pitied the plagued laundress. She will die tortured and alone. She gave herself to so many men. The men didn't love her back.

* * *

A week later, Gracia and the orphans went to the East Military Academy swimming pool. Miss Andreas, one of the orphanage's supervisors, also made her presence known. She was something of a prude, speaking to her charges about manners instead of endearment. But she allowed Gracia some independence, watching from a chair.

Gracia saw the children line up before the shallow end of the pool. They all awaited the excitement of the water. Some could swim. Others could not. Gracia offered to help the inexperienced, with Hughes keeping the others company. She felt very fortunate the children pleaded for 'Unca Hughes' to join them. Of course, she should quit using the kids as persuasion collateral. She knew that Maes would do this for her.

"Is Unca Hughes coming?" said Freda excitingly.

"Yes he will be," Gracia patted the child's cheek.

The sound of the door got everyone's attention. Hughes entered in sweats, giving his usual greeting. While one hand waved, his other hand lurked from beyond the door. He was grabbing onto something, something strong enough to pull him back to the door. Hughes yanked back. Roy Mustang was now seen.

Gracia could only sigh at what 'Unca Roy' could bring for the kids. She walked to the two men of her age. They appeared to be in a struggle, Maes' cheer contrasting Roy's scowl. She heard Hughes mumble to his friend. "You said you wanted to see the girls!"

"Yes," Roy protested. "But I thought you meant girls with an extra digit to their age!"

Hughes turned that happy face to Gracia. His glasses slanted to his nose, revealing a long stare. He was thrown at her presence, causing the target to cover herself. True, she wasn't wearing a two-piece swimsuit, but there was still the cleavage of her round breasts and her long white legs and her…_Gracia control yourself!_ _You aren't standing butt naked to the man, so amputate the shame!_

"I'm liking this already!" Hughes smirked. Gracia eased upon this remark. She was beginning to like his flirting. Roy was different. His reluctant bored presence did help calm her unsteady nerves into cool disdain for him. She got nothing of that from Maes' flustered expression.

"Thank you both for coming," she greeted cordially.

"It's nothing," Maes rubbed his neck.

"Yeah," Roy scowled further.

"Do you want to dress in private?" Gracia asked.

"Nope!" Maes pulled his sweatshirt off. Gracia shrugged toward the children. Did she dare look back? Well, he was going to be scantily clad anyway. So she returned her eyes and saw Hughes shirtless, his sculptured pectorals and arms exposed to all. He pulled off his pants, revealing white-belted blue trunks. Rather _short_ blue trunks, Gracia studied his calves too much. Like the examination, Maes behaved with brave coolness. Not that his body could bring shame. Roy remained clothed.

"He's got boobies!" snickered one child. Gracia didn't protest at the pectorals.

"Emma!" Miss Andreas shouted.

Gracia saw another child looking at her. "Why's your face red, Miss Gracia?" This caused her to quickly shield her scarlet features, turning it to the children.

With a chuckle, Hughes marched to the children. He clapped his hands for attention. "Okay, who can swim?"

There were a raise of hands. "Those who can't, stand here." He pointed to the wall. "Those who can…" he gave his glasses to Gracia. "Follow me!"

Hughes leaped into the air, curving himself into a ball. With the roar of _"Cannonball!_" he smashed into the watery surface with an explosion. The bubbles' evaporation saw Maes popping his head out, spewing water like a fountain. The children followed suit with the greatest of enthusiasm. More explosions hit the water, forcing Gracia to retreat from the splashes.

Roy Mustang just sat on a chair and read a book.

And so the party began. Gracia helped the nonswimmers, holding their hands as they peddled their legs and floated. She enjoyed teaching them, as much as they liked her. But they also enjoyed Hughes. He would lift the children and drop them (safely) into the water. When they splashed water at him, he splashed back.

And then there were his tricks, one of which he preyed on Gracia. Without knowing, she found his head emerge between her legs, carrying her up in the air. Screaming and panicking, Gracia got back down through the prankster's help. She connected with his naked arms and body, her face very close to his. The fun suddenly turned serious. And Hughes looked the same way too. She could tell by his eyes. The constant use of his glasses hid their true worth. The lime pupils glowed with sensitivity. They carried a calmness unlike the rest of his whimsical self. Very dreamy.

But the moment was brief. "Miss Gracia and Mister Hughes!" Miss Andreas cried. The two broke their embrace- slowly- returning to the festivities. Hughes showed off diving, either belly-flopping or cart wheeling off the diving board into the water. He did them all with a ballet flair. The man was a glutton for attention. But he didn't ignore the inexperienced. He would take turns grabbing one child on his shoulders, walking them around the pool. Gracia liked seeing a strong man being gentle with children. It was endearing to think what a father he could be. A very different one…

Anyway, what she did mind was Roy's grumpy position.

"Hey, Roy!" Hughes swam to his friend's direction, getting out of the pool. "Come in!" He yelled joyfully. "The water's fine!

"Pass," Roy kept his eyes on a book he read. Hughes cringed in acceptance. He dived back into the waters, the impact sending a large splash upon Roy.

Hughes popped his head out of the surface. "Maybe you should've studied Water Alchemy instead!"

But Roy was not without weapons of his own. "You can forget skinny dipping! You'll always make a chubby chunk!"

Hughes only smirked. Gracia accepted Roy's haughtiness with less tolerance. She too arose from the water and walked to the man.

"Hi," She calmly greeted. "Want to join us?"

"Nope," Roy's answer was final. "Nothing to see here."

That finished the attempts of courtesy. Gracia turned back to the pool. Hughes was at her feet, both arms folded on the pool's side. "Don't try," he explained. "Roy doesn't like kids."

Gracia took that info with predictability. "Should have known."

"Help!" Miss Andreas cried.

Indeed, another scream came with noises of water. Gracia saw and gasped. Tom was panicking in the deep end. Gracia dived into the pool, swimming quickly to the child's plight. Maes was with her. First he swam beside her, than before her. He reached Tom first, scooping him in an embrace. Gracia added her support to the aggrieved child. "Help me get to the edge, Gracia," Hughes asked, blinking his eyes. Gracia complied. Together, man and woman swam their precious cargo to the nearest side of the floor. Maes jumped out first, lifting the kid out. Gracia followed. So far, except for some emotional tears, Tom was okay. He covered his face in shame.

"It's alright," Gracia patted the child's back. "You're safe now."

The boy still hid his face.

"Let me talk to him," Maes volunteered. Gracia allowed this. She looked at the other children, and then at Roy. Still sitting there.

"Children, stay here," Gracia forbid any more forays into the pool. She walked over to Roy in a cursed mood. "Wishing the victim was older, blonde, and busty?" She entered her words with calculation. Roy glared back, keeping silent.

"Of course!" Gracia mocked. "In that case, you'd beat us to the rescue."

Hughes entered the scene. "Tom's alright. Just some stupid dare by his friends." But his words succeeded little in breaking this heated war.

"I don't have to explain myself to you," Roy gave Gracia the shoulder.

"Because I'm not your type, right?" Gracia flashed her point with dagger sharpness. "Not some girl who can soothe your selfish ego!"

"Gracia?" Hughes protested to no avail.

Roy paused, than shot back. "At least I like women, not damning the whole race!"

Gracia reacted in kind. "You sure aren't an exception to your kind!"

The battle was on between would-be Alchemist and would-be Nurse. "Why you shallow…"

"You arrogant, skirt-chasing-"

"_Quiet!"_ roared loud an angry voice, not from either antagonist. Gracia, greatly stunned, found the culprit to be Hughes! For such a scream, the man went silent. He composed himself from this extreme flood of emotion. Indeed, his next words were calm, but stern. "Gracia, Roy can't swim."

Suddenly, Gracia's hold for supremacy shattered, rendering all her talk worthless and embarrassing.

Roy smirked.

"Back off, Roy!" Hughes snapped. He didn't look at his friend. No look for Gracia either.

Roy gave his shoulder again to Gracia. He went his way and left.

* * *

Gracia received some strong words from Miss Andreas. But she gave leeway for her quick action and the fact that Tom was always a troublemaker. Nonetheless, Gracia felt bad over her behavior. Not that Hughes' silence made it any better. There was little said between the two. Maes and Gracia still played with the kids, but distance seemed to block any word between them. Then it came time to leave. Seeing Miss Andreas take care of the children, Gracia returned to Hughes. He was toweling himself. The hotness of his form was suddenly absent from her mind. Her fault was the perfect blind for him. She spoke his name. She spoke about other things. "Tom seems okay."

"He feels embarrassed," Hughes calmly answered. "Tried to impress his friends and you. Boys will be boys."

_And they only get worse._ Gracia committed some wit to herself. Returning to the uncomfortable territory, she finally spoke her apology.

Hughes did not react at all. "Why to me?" He wrapped the towel on his shoulder. "It's Roy you should be apologizing to."

The new choice was not good for Gracia. Did she have to?

"Roy can be an egotistical jerk," Maes supported his claim, "but give blame where blame is due."

Gracia looked at the pool. It was a good substitute for a creek. But with a begrudging "Fine," she complied for this awful task. At least Maes wasn't mad at her. He showed this tolerance with a grin.

"Now it's my turn to apologize."

"Huh? Gracia's puzzlement doomed her. The man bear-hugged her and hurled both themselves into the waters.

* * *

A day passed for Gracia to do the awful deed. And yet she paused outside the boarding house. She had an apple pie with her. All nerve was summoned to be humble before that jerk. She spotted Hughes running on the rooftops. She lamented the lack of Maes' support. But the path was remembered and taken: through the lobby, up the stairs, before the door marked 33. Here goes nothing. She knocked at the door.

It opened. Gracia faced away, not wanting to look at him. "Here's a pie." She felt it taken from his hand. Now time to leave.

"Hey," Roy announced for her to stop. Gracia obliged reluctantly. She turned to see Roy dressed, with no woman in sight. His proud features were somber, looking almost haunted. "I've met many kinds of women. Some are too stubborn to admit they're wrong…"

_Really?_ Gracia faked a smile, secretly sneering at his presumed innocence.

"Others apologize every second." Then he closed his mouth, as if he too found some hard words to say. "You apologized, and I know it wasn't easy. Maybe I was wrong about you."

The attempt at a compliment was enough for Gracia to feel civil to this man.

"But let's not get hasty," Roy killed any further chance. "Great cook you are, you're still wrong for Hughes."

"Thanks for the compliment." Gracia turned frigid.

Roy took notice. "Ever the ice maiden to us men," He sighed. "Maes gets a fat lip defending your honor from some guy…"

The words touched Gracia, opening a mystery. That terrible drunken night! She suddenly remembered Maes' injury. The cause was unknown until now.

"All for some woman who hates us men. You were pretty loaded enough to rant about the evils of my kind."

The drunken night was not a soft touch for Gracia. The truth of her actions came worse. She felt like her clothes had been torn off, showing her vulnerabilities to everyone and everything. Her view fell not to Roy and her surroundings, but into her own thoughts; raw, hurt, exposed. Her innermost views and thoughts revealed to this jerk! What else did she say? Did everyone know? Maes had to know.

Epiphany never came more unwanted. The darkest goo, the dirtiest and thickest, fell on her image of Hughes. The explanation was too much. _"Make love with, well, love!"_ It was all too convenient. But the urge to condemn was no longer easy to do. No slippery pole this time. More like one covered with spikes, with her latched to the middle of it. Which torturous direction to go?

Meanwhile, Roy was unaware of this blow he gave. "Well, graduation's in a month," He spelled his relief. "So you won't have to hear from both of us ever again!"

_Graduation? _More words pulsed into Gracia's raddled and confused mind. And just as powerful. She should have known. Maes was a senior classman ready to graduate. What then? Perhaps he'll go to Ishbal like all the other soldiers and get killed. Either way, Maes Hughes will be gone from her life. And Gracia Stern wasn't sure his leaving worth a protest. Or was she?

_Who are you, Maes Hughes?_

To be continued.


	5. Goodbye?

The Woman He Loved

Chapter 5: Goodbye?

By Claudius

* * *

It looked like any woman's perfect dream. It was definitely 'Chest's' idea of paradise: Examining two shirtless, rippled young men with sunburn. And Gracia indeed saw this pair of hunky man-flesh as very interesting. She just had a problem with the owners.

"Wasn't it nice of Gracia to spend her time treating us for sunburn?" Maes smirked with glinting eyes.

Roy said nothing.

"_Wasn't it?"_ Hughes repeated those words, a little louder while maintaining his glee.

"Yes," Roy replied boorishly. "Thank you very much, Gracia."

"That's better!" Maes patted his friend on the back, a contact that made Roy flinch. Gracia tried to be unflappable at this comeuppance to Mr. Mustang. The two really looked as pink as satin. Roy grumbled over his condition while Maes kept cheer, despite rueful words of 'sun bad.' Gracia was gracious. "Roy, congratulations on acing the Alchemy Exam."

"You should have seen him!" Maes yelped like a devoted pet. "There he was in front of all the military brass, sweating buckets, ready to shit his pants..." His info got interrupted by an elbow jab to the ribs. "He was amazing. Passed with flying colors."

Roy now felt insufferably proud of himself. He paid his respects to Gracia as well. "Same here on the end of your internship. Impressive, if not…" His words ended in a wince, caused by another back slap by Maes.

Gracia nodded to the expected words. "Thank you. Do you think they'll take your diploma away when they learn you burned yourself?"

His glow dimmed, Roy sulked. Maes snickered.

"Well, don't worry," Gracia took out some lotion. "The burn'll be gone in a few days." She handed the bottle to Roy. "There, all done."

"Apply it to me gently," Roy asked with all his charm.

Gracia and Maes both gave Roy a smack on his back. Then Gracia gave Maes an equal slap. The chorus of wincing suited her ears. She began to leave for the hallway, only to be halted by the voice of Hughes. "Say, Gracia! Any plans after work?"

"Can you include me?" Roy added. Maes still smiled as his eyes glared extremely at his friend.

"No." Gracia turned them both down. "And no thanks." At that, she departed. Her ears picked up their arguments. What babies those two were! And she was really calling the kettle black. Maes was just trying to celebrate her success in concluding her internship. But she couldn't accept anything from him. Not right now, not after what Roy said to her.

Why did she personally give Roy Mustang her apologies? Then he would never have told her that truth. Then again, did she want to live this lie? Pros and cons of this revelation gave her a struggle to understand. So Hughes knew her distrust about men! Maybe this revelation was coincidental to his kindness to her. Then again, maybe it gave him the advantage to play her like a chess piece, and press the right tactics for victory (and then off to another chess piece!). As much as Gracia wanted to believe in coincidence (the orphanage visit was evidence of that!), the alternative nagged her. Suddenly, the Maes Hughes she was surprised to know- the unusually kind, sincere gentleman- seemed like a performance for her! How can she trust the man? She can't, which is why she will have to end this play herself. Closing the curtains would be unpleasant, for Gracia didn't really want to hurt anyone, even those most deserving.

Gracia took one last look at these two friends. They departed, their pink faces contrasted with their blue uniforms. Humorous overtones aside, that garb stood out as testimony to their future. The Ishbalan war. Not all soldiers went over there. But if Roy went, Maes would definitely follow.

Gracia ignored this dire future. Didn't she have better things to think about? Her term at the Military Hospital ends today. The fact played a hope of the future. One more internship at the Orphanage and she will become a full-fledged nurse! A time like this can lead to reminiscing, and Gracia fell victim to that. She could still remember the event that led to this day. She was ten years old, walking with her parents along the street. They came to a car accident. A man had been injured. The image burned in her mind. The injured limbs, the blood lacerations, the man twisted in funny positions. Gracia freaked at the sight, screaming in cries. Her mother embraced her. Father, looking very embarrassed, demanded her silence. Gracia rued her failure that day. She should have been like the doctor and nurse fixing the man. Neither one fretted or wept at the man's injuries. They were very brave.

The memory of the physicians never left her. Structuring the foundation was seeing dad looking somewhat pleased at this kind act. Ever since then, Gracia worked hard to become a nurse, acting just like the one she saw as a child. A strong woman, resolute against any hardship.

Now the dream was soon about to come true. But victory was matched with sadness. She would be leaving this hospital, and her friends. Speaking of which, Gracia realized her melancholy was not shared. She spotted Rizzie and Chest looking very happy.

"What's the secret?" Gracia coyly interrupted. "Some dirty thing I shouldn't know about? Shame on you."

The humor welcomed her to the girls' fold. Rizzie presented her hand, bearing a ring. "See Glacier? I'm getting married."

Gracia just stared, at the ring and its meaning. Chest asked for details. Rizzie explained things. Her fiancé studied law. He was handsome and dashing. They met last month. That last fact broke Gracia's excitement. "You just met him?" Not a right sign for a marriage. But it seemed any rational pleas could not penetrate the happy barrier on Rizzie's face. Only Gracia didn't stop trying. "Aren't you rushing things?"

"Gracia's right," said Chest. "Sleep with him first."

That got the woman a look from Gracia. Not exactly a reason she wanted. She quickly returned to Rizzie. The woman still engulfed herself in infallible bliss. "We're so in love," she glinted, lost to any protest given to her. Her feelings were her defense, and a solid one at that! "You don't understand! I'm not getting any younger."

"You're just twenty!"

"Too late for some. Besides, I'm not like you two. I don't want to play the field, or be the cold-as-ice-spinster-in-training." At that, the soured intern left her two party-pooping friends.

Gracia quieted on this hurtful counterattack. Will she always be mistaken as the contender for old maidenhood? But hurt pride did not change the discomfort of this whirlwind romance. Rizzie probably didn't know everything about her fiancée; chances are she didn't really know him at all.

And yet Rizzie was at marriageable age. So was she.

The two non-engaged ladies left for the hall. Chest was rather bothered herself. Bothered enough to be open. "I'm not that trampy, am I?"

Gracia lied. "Of course not. Am I going to be an old maid?"

Chest wasn't as nice. "Not if you keep blowing off that Hughes guy." She strutted off. The accused stood there. She reasoned against this point. So she was a little independent! If she shirked flirts, so what? She wasn't a cold person, at least not inside. In fact, she had let the ice melt a bit lately. To a sudden feeling both bad and good, Gracia knew the one responsible.

"Miss Stern!"

Gracia froze at that yell. There stood 'Ogre' Schmidt, looking at Gracia as if she was some insect. "Come to my office."

Gracia obeyed and sighed. Let the trial begin! Ogre went into a lecture on all her strengths and weaknesses. Weaknesses that only a perfectionist control freak would notice. As such a view could portray, Gracia suspected little joy with the upcoming verdict. She was surprised to get a rather quality grade. Ogre made no emphasis for congratulations though. "Dismissed," was her last command.

Gracia began to leave. She had long taken up thinking that Ogre got an operation that removed her heart.

"And one more thing."

Gracia turned, ready for more condescending. Before her sat a kind old lady, smiling warmly like a mother. "Good luck, dear."

Surprise overtook all Gracia's bitter emotions, leaving a gracious smile. Evidently this was a month for facades. In this case, the revelation was pleasing.

Gracia skipped to the locker room. Her friends had already left. For the last time, Gracia changed to her civilian clothes. She emptied the locker of its contents. The end of one life. In that reverent mood, she left the hospital. An ambulance parked. Gracia tensed to it like a bee to honey. But she fought off this call, returning to her departing path. Her days at East Military Hospital have ended.

* * *

At the nearby café, celebrations were called for the interns' last night. Gracia included herself inside. She spotted Rizzie surrounded by well-wishers for her news. Their responses to Gracia were the complete opposite, as if she was a threat to the party.

"Rizzie, I'm sorry." Gracia deflated their fears with apologies. "Just because I think you're making a mistake doesn't mean I don't wish you happiness." She kissed her friend's cheek, an act that got reciprocated with an embrace.

So Gracia was welcomed to the small festivities. Rizzie glowed in her happiness. Gracia let herself enjoy the occasion. Rizzie did look happy, she thought. Her friend was a gentle person, perhaps too much for the rigors of nursing. Now Gracia realized her own guilt in being too condescending. Why shouldn't Rizzie create a life with another?

"Drinks for all!" Chest declared.

"None for me, please," Gracia spoke her refusal. The small festivities went pleasantly, with Rizzie explaining how she met her fiancé. How he proposed, etc.

And then a stranger appeared. Well, a pink-faced stranger to most but Gracia. "Hiya, and congratulations!" He bellowed to all, but especially to Gracia. She could hear some of the women swoon at this greeting. She was unaffected…outwardly.

"So what do we have here?" Hughes asked.

"Rizzie's getting married!" cried Chest.

Maes bellowed his cheer even more. "Best wishes to the lucky girl. Congratulations! Congratulations! Congratulations! Congratulations!" His greeting, despite causing a moment of awkward silence, was accepted. He kissed Rizzie's cheek.

"I'm going to be a bridesmaid!" Chest exclaimed, wiggling her puckered lips.

"Afraid that's it for me in the kissing department." Hughes gently shot her down. "So, marriage! Good! They say it's a noble institution."

"But who wants to live in an institution?" Gracia joked. She found her sitting position suddenly shared by the man. Hughes stayed throughout the party and to the end, becoming as integral to it as Gracia. The end saw the gang disperse, leaving only Gracia and Maes. As they walked out of the café, rain started to shower down. They came to an opening. Gracia suddenly noticed her companion had a very interested face. "Aw, Love. It's a special thing, ain't it?"

"It is." Gracia nodded, feeling a discomfort.

"So how does the intern feel about passing?"

Gracia expressed pleasure enough to admit her feelings. "Like I've passed through a gauntlet. You probably know how that feels."

"You've read my mind." Maes was appreciative. "Congratulations, congratulations…"

"Congratulations, congratulations!" Gracia continued to Maes. She gave a cool but kind nature. But there might be a limit to this kindness.

"I suppose I can top it." Maes sighed, a contented complexion on his face. "What I'm about to say may make you the happiest girl in the world."

The line opened up so many meanings to Gracia's intelligence. Her reaction could give both of them closure or misery. "Oh? So what is it?" Her demand was calm.

The rain grew a little harsher. Not the best weather for this occasion. Hughes walked into the pour, acting very immune to it. He looked like he had other problems than water. His alliance of hands shook several times. His grin jittered as if ready to maniacally laugh. His nerves carried the razor's edge of courage and cowardice. "Remember when I got really sick?" He breathed in relief, his relaxed form bringing out a cuteness effect. "You were there."

"Yes I was." Gracia contrasted his nervous delight with a deadpan nerve. "I brought Roy to your sickbed."

"Of course, of course!" Hughes repeated in sudden memory. "I had a fever lasting throughout the night. When it broke, I awoke." Staring at his hands, his soulful eyes lifted to Gracia. "The first thing I saw was you."

Gracia steeled herself. The romantic tones growing in Maes' face and words carried effective weaponry. "You were blind as a bat."

"I saw the light shining from the window." Maes interrupted with nonchalance. "Your silhouette before it. I heard your beautiful voice. That was enough."

Such moving and sincere words, Gracia thought. And Maes wasn't speaking in his regular gleeful tone. He spoke in a calmer, serious tone. Like that time he admitted his mother's death, or when he consoled her about the dead child patient. The tone carried sincerity. Can it be true? Real or not, Gracia found it rocked her defenses. Why did he have to be so charming?

Hughes put his hand to the back of his head. His mouth kept a brief silence. Then, with a sure poke to his glasses, he let it out. "I'm in love with you."

It would have been safer for Gracia if those words meant nothing. It gave her pause, ready to threaten her vaunted coolness. She reinforced herself, turning her head away.

Hughes kept smiling, blinking his eyes as if this reply was imaginary. "Okay...Not the reaction I was expecting."

Gracia responded slowly. "I'm afraid that's it." She faced the danger. Let the heart-rending begin! "It's been nice."

"But…" Hughes made a disturbed prediction.

"I don't want this, Maes. I don't know if I can believe you."

"Oh, give me a chance!" Maes spoke almost carefree.

But Gracia was steadfast. "Even so, a lot is happening right now. Becoming a nurse, helping my father. I…I just don't have time for someone." Gracia finished her explanation. She heard nothing but the rain. Calm before the storm. She expected Hughes to scream at her. Say horrible names. A cold shrug in departure. The true climax showed the man rubbing his face, lips still curved. "Geez, the rain is making my face wet." He backed away, wiping his cheeks. "Y'know, I guess I went a little overboard. Should have known." He snickered, his happy tone in use. "Roy's the one who does the dating. I was doing all the work. Guess I thought I was missing out on something. So, first girl I see, I get infatuated! Boy, I sure rushed into this!"

Gracia watched this surprising response. As usual, Maes Hughes astonished her. He was being really nice…or maybe not. That suspicion caused her to react. "Maes…"

Maes splendidly showed his palm at her. "It's okay. Guess I expected too much; more than either of us wanted." He beamed the smile greater. "I actually feel better about this. Very relieved." He wiped his eyes some more. "Damn rain."

And then Gracia stopped catering to this lie. Such a performance could convince many. Not her. "Maes, I'm sorry."

"Didn't you hear me?" Maes shouted, very uncharacteristically. "Nothing's ever completely negative! I've learned something here." Before he could reveal exactly this answer, the man changed the subject. "I have to do some packing. See ya!" He walked off, sprightly and upright as ever. Gracia saw him off with silence. Her closure had created a different villain. Nice going with letting him off easy, Gracia! Shooting him would be more compassionate!

The sudden change saw Gracia finding herself pitying Hughes. Why did this have to happen? Because she couldn't love him back. Why is that? Her mind sought evidence of the past. The parties she went to, where every girl got a partner but her. Roy Mustang's nasty remark about her appearance...

"_Just some drunk, homely, flat-chested frump flirting with me."_

Rizzie's complaint...

"_Sounds more like you can't trust him liking you." _

If so, Gracia found it hard not to dislike the man. It wasn't just the handsome face and rippled body. Seeing his positive attitude, his play with the orphans, saving the boy at the pool, his protection of her while drunk and vulnerable. Even if he was asking for some reward, didn't he deserve one from her?

But as ever, Gracia still feared. What would be _her_ reward? Yes, she saw a jovial person, but that was the problem. She regularly saw Maes Hughes as a positive, happy-go-lucky young man. Such behavior might not be the real him. Remember those rare outbursts! From a different man altogether. This harbored a major threat that Gracia could not ignore. Is there a real jerk behind the mask?

The young woman found her resolve. It was bad enough she lived with a man who may never give her his gratitude and fatherly love. Will this new man hurt her too? In that case, it was better she rejected Hughes.

And didn't that make Gracia feel good? She could only sigh.

* * *

A few days passed, and no Maes. This first meant freedom to Gracia. No more Maes Hughes breathing down her neck! (or whatever the phrase was supposed to be) No more Maes Hughes in her life. Life was now back the way it was: becoming a nurse and getting her father's approval. _Without Maes Hughes._

It would be kind to say Gracia found the freedom unrewarding. Truth be told, she didn't find it so. It felt worse. She didn't cry about it, going about her everyday functions well. But tears are not necessarily the only effect of such sadness. The bad feelings did not go away because of the big sendoff. In fact, they grew to a haunting. Gracia was not stupid to the point. She missed him.

It was a complex matter. Gracia had always been against a relationship from the start. But despite her reservations, a connection with Maes now existed. It was built by good times, and these materialized in her memories. No matter the depth of his behavior, she enjoyed his company.

But fixing things proved as hopeless as forgetting. Even if she wanted to see Hughes again, Gracia didn't mistake that empathy for love. And they couldn't possibly become friends. It wouldn't work. Maes clearly didn't want to see her again. As this maze of conflicts implied, Gracia found no easy solution; there might not be one. You made your bed, Gracia. Now sleep in it!

The woman came across her father's study. Her father was at his desk, dealing with writings or the bills. The man was such an intellectual, but he never shared any of his thoughts with his daughter. As young as she remembered, the room was forbidden from her playful intentions. That didn't stop Gracia from sneaking into his study and read everything he had in there. But her father was now present, so she had to cross it without entering.

"Gracia."

The daughter turned. Hearing her name from her father was always an attention-getter; even a call as dispassionate as this one. Gracia entered the room.

Her father looked at her with dim eyes. Pride? Nonchalance?

"You're going to graduate soon."

Gracia nodded. Respect? "Who would believe it?"

"I would." He said, stilling Gracia with meaning. "I had to pay for it."

Gracia kept a breath as her hope descended. Nothing else came from her father. "Thank you," she spoke with grace. She left the room to the kitchen. Now came the time for tears. No one source. So much happening these days. Very overwhelming.

There was the knock on the door. Gracia wiped the tears away. She returned to a stronger façade as she opened it. Surprise nearly broke it.

"Roy?" As usual, Gracia was cool to the man. "What are you doing here?"

"I wish to talk," Roy was completely serious.

"Who is it, Gracia?" said her father. He approached with a flinch. Roy sneered back. "So this is your father? I can see the family resemblance."

Gracia, startled by this remark, calmed her defensiveness. "He's a cadet, dad."

"State Alchemist now." Roy nodded. "I'm here on some official business."

The father turned back to his study.

"Nice guy," Roy slurred. "You take after him."

"Roy, what is it?" Gracia impatiently demanded the point of this visit.

"Can we talk outside?" Roy turned to the yard, not expecting any other decision but his wish fulfilled. Gracia coldly obeyed.

"Okay. What's the matter?"

"It's about Maes."

Gracia froze at the possible meaning.

"Nothing fatal or hurtful," Roy made a half-smile of pleasure. "Does that surprise you?"

Gracia added more ice to her voice. She did not like being played. "I thought this was official business."

"I'm making it official business!" Roy struck back by voice alone. "Something happened, and he's depressed."

"Sad and Maes Hughes?" Gracia attempted to joke. "Something of an oxymoron?"

Roy threw a dark vision to her. He continued. "Oh, he's not in the 'doesn't-eat-or-talk' mood. He's not suicidal either. Maes isn't the dark type. He's usually the happy fool."

Gracia took this info. But is it legitimate?

"Call it some best friend sixth sense, but I can tell something's wrong with him."

"And so I'm to blame?" Gracia spoke a weak defense, hiding remorse.

"I have some guilt in it too, but, yep, you're commander-in-chief of blame." A smug lift came to Roy's lips. "When Maes mentioned you, he said he failed to change your view about us men being scum. Then he went into 'You can't win them all!' mentality and changed the subject."

Gracia lowered her eyes, half-angry by this accusation, half-sorry about its truth.

"That little confession," Roy surmised, "got me thinking. You were actually beginning to like him. Then you give me the pie and afterwards you don't give him the time of day. Coincidence?"

Gracia gave silence. No admission to this jerk!

"Let me tell you," Roy tried other means. "Maes is a weirdo. You know he's still a virgin?"

Gracia's face revealed everything.

Roy rolled his eyes. "Yes you do. Well, he's not out to sow oats. He can be very sincere when it comes to friends. That's what he really is. I doubt finding out about your crazy man-hate played any part in his attitude to you."

But Gracia asked with steel. "Did it?"

Roy exhaled in impatient surrender. "Look, graduation is tomorrow. The next day is Ishbal. Make your choice." He put on his cap, then left.

Gracia kept her strong demeanor, shot by these words. They're leaving for Ishbal the day after? So soon? This led to a trance-like return to the house.

"And what was that about?" Her father called to her.

"Just some important business." Gracia spoke some truth. Her thoughts kept to that inevitable destination, and what it meant to her.

* * *

A few hours later, Gracia went to the boarding house. Roy's words pressed her to do something. 'Something' was a mystery.

With such insecurity in her actions, Gracia knocked at the apartment door.

"Coming!" Cried a voice not belonging to Roy. The door opened with Maes garbed in a towel. His wet, strong form glistened like a marble statue, but Gracia's eyes were spent on his equally bare, equally chiseled face. Even with limited vision, Maes' eyes still pierced at her own. For a moment each owner froze at their spot. Then Maes gasped and brought the door to a near close. "Uh, wait until I get something on!"

Gracia waited outside. At least it wasn't a rejection. With the reply "Come in," she obeyed. Inside had Maes finish tying on a red robe. He put on his glasses, rubbing his wet hair, hanging like a mop around his scalp. "I thought you didn't want to see me again."

"I didn't say that."

Hughes looked at her with curiosity, hopefulness. Gracia continued on this uncertain script. She felt like a jagged knife upon this man of paper. How to do this without hurting him more? Gracia looked at the distraction of bags being packed.

"So, to Ishbal?"

"Yep." Hughes admitted with a sigh. "Day after tomorrow."

Gracia paused for a better reaction to that confirmation. "I've thought a lot about what happened…between us."

Hughes turned away, giving an awkward jig. "I haven't. In fact, I feel a lot better, getting this infatuation off my chest."

_Not according to Roy_, Gracia thought. She let a moment pass, than another. Finally…

"I missed you." The woman leaped for correction. "Even...even if I'm not in love with you, I really don't hate you either. I can tolerate you…a lot."

Gracia saw the man's back in this spontaneous speech. But the end of it saw Hughes turning to her. What could he be thinking about these words? _What could she be thinking with these words?_

"Well, I mean, as a friend." Rubbing her head, Gracia attempted a better explanation. The words just fumbled out without perfection. "I don't mean 'Let's never meet, but when we do, share some small talk, then go our separate ways.' I just…I don't really want to miss you." Was that the best she could do? But it was the truth, speaking from a heart that would miss his absence. Too bad the heart needed some poetry lessons. "Can we at least be friends? Okay?"

Maes planted his hand upon his scalp. "Okay?" The unease of his face could give an inevitable answer. Gracia bowed her head in pessimistic realization.

Maes arose. "Okay!" He burst his usual grin, putting Gracia into a glad surprise. Again they stood before each other, words not passing, faces giving the message. They hugged. Gracia felt good in this closeness. The hug lasted a bit. With reluctance, she let go. Her friend did not. "Maes?"

The man quickly released Gracia with nervous apologies. "Sorry!" He began to rub his fingers together. "So, friend." He exclaimed the word with enthusiasm. "You want to go out after graduation?…_Not as a date!_" He demanded this correction be understood. "There probably will be some other people around..._as a group!_ We're friends."

"Yes." Gracia had no reluctance this time.

* * *

The next day, Gracia went to the graduation. Since the actual ceremony was closed to the public, she waited outside. Eventually the public saw the graduates on their last parade. Gracia spotted Roy and Maes marching reverently in the march (With the latter throwing a wink at her). Later, she went to a nearby tavern as accorded to their plans for tonight. As ever, she checked herself, dressing as best she could for the occasion. It wasn't like a date, a statement Gracia kept telling herself that over and over.

The tavern was full of drinking and tomfoolery. Men danced and sang at or on tables. Such sights filled Gracia with regret. Was she _that_ drunk? She sat at the table, and waited. The partying grew wilder. And she waited. Then a man came. "Are you Gracia Stern?"

Gracia nodded.

The man gave her a note.

_Can't make it. Roy and me are having a night out. One last big blow out. Sorry._

The air left Gracia. Disappointment grew in the emptiness. Why should she feel bad about it? They were friends. Nothing more. Only her sad state on departure showed no complacency. Sadness grew into anger. How dare he stood her up! Didn't he know this is the last time they'll ever see each other again? She should have known he'd do something like this! She was right not…to be a friend.

A sadder revelation broke in Gracia, burdening her with its content. She really hadn't been friendly to Maes at all. He did everything for her, and she did little in return. She couldn't trust him. Such wisdom was great and condemning. She failed as a friend.

Then tomorrow she will prove the opposite, before it's too late.

* * *

The Eastern City Train Station was bulged with soldiers ready to be shipped to Ishbal. Some soldiers talked to their fellow men. Others spoke to civilians. A hundred blue-garbed soldiers blended into a population of confusion.

But by luck Gracia spotted Roy. On his shoulders he bore a sack and rifle. And with him was Maes, less equipped but no less dressed in military garb. Both their faces were studded with black and blue bruises. They spotted her, suddenly silent.

Gracia faced them with happiness and a basket. "I made pies for you."

"Our personal piewoman!" Hughes joked. He gently took the basket from her hands.

"I want you to be careful!" Gracia spit out the words. She then calmed herself, embarrassed.

Maes thanked her. "Hear that, Roy? She does care!"

Roy finally gave a face of friendly attitude. "Thank you."

The time grew short. "All aboard!" shouted an officer. The gathering became more organized.

"Well," Hughes let out a sigh. "It's time to go."

Gracia reinforced herself more than ever. Everything inside of her cried out to do something more than give food. "Maes…"

Her voice was not heard, drowned by the best friends' conversation. "It's going to get very boring around here!" Hughes said to Roy.

Seeing her own isolation, Gracia just turned away. She blew it again. And then she heard Maes' voice. "I'm gonna miss you."

Gracia paused. Such sincere words compelled her to hug and kiss him so badly. She returned her sight…to see the words not for her. Maes shook hands with Roy. Then he pulled his surprised friend closer for an embrace. "Go get 'em, Roy. The future's ours."

Released, Roy awkwardly stared at his friend.

Hughes defended himself. "Hey, I can't think of any clichés!"

Nevertheless, Roy, apparently above such mushiness, looked really touched by this farewell. And Gracia finally saw the true bond of these two men.

The friends separated, with Roy heading to the train. Maes kept to his spot. Gracia worked against the confusing scene, the meaning finally sinking into her. "Y-You're not going to Ishbal?"

Maes shook his head.

"But those bags..."

"Those were _Roy's_ bags." Hughes corrected. He spoke this without breaking his gaze from his departing friend. "Roy has his path. I have mine." His profile continued to look upon the train. He kept looking until the train vanished.

For a brief moment, Gracia saw extreme sadness appear on Maes' face. So brief was it, she could almost think it never happened. For once again he faced her with a fine, happy face. Temporarily. "Ow," He rubbed his arm. "I guess I pulled a few things yesterday."

"Here, let me help you." Gracia volunteered to check him up. The two headed for a bench. Maes acted like he was one big bruise. "What happened?" Gracia asked.

"Roy and I had a brawl. Very good-natured."

Gracia squirmed at that oxymoron. _Boys._ "So why didn't you tell me you weren't going with Roy?"

"You didn't ask."

"Yes I did."

"Well, you didn't ask_specifically_."

Gracia fumed at the illogic of this word play. "Why didn't you go?"

"Oh, there's some reasons," Maes gave another profile for her to see.  
The ambiguity of that explanation touched Gracia's mood. It touched her heart as well. _Dummy_. It was a rather endearing label for him. "You're like one big bruise."

"Gracia." A more serious word came from Hughes. "I gotta confess something. When you asked me about your drunk time, I said you didn't say anything. I lied."

Gracia paused. Roy didn't tell him a thing about his own confession? "What did I say?"

"A whole lot." An uneasy form came to Maes' face. "You either see my kind as cold-hearted stoics or skirt-chasing libertines."

Yes, Gracia admitted to herself.

"You are right in some cases." Hughes hit some humor in the somberness. "But there are a lot of men who aren't like either of those types."

Gracia was skeptical. "This coming from Roy Mustang's best friend?"

Maes cast her a knowledgeable look. "There's a lot more to Roy than you know. A lot more about us." He glowed with resolution. "As your ambassador to the male world, I want to prove myself to you. Show you the truth."

A hard challenge, Gracia realized for the self-proclaimed ambassador. But it was acceptable. Besides, they were safely friends. No harsh consequence if he be proven wrong.

"As your friend. Can you trust me?"

Gracia sorted the effects of this proposition in her mind. "Yes."

Hughes threw one of his trademark smiles. "Good." He fingered the middle of his glasses, arising from the bench. "Roy's gone. There goes the Eastern City!"

This time, Gracia made the first move. She extended her hand, grabbing his tightly. "I think we'll manage."

And did Maes really smile at that! His happiness seemed infectious. Gracia smirked. She didn't have to make her decision. For right now, her life has Maes Hughes in it. And she liked it.

To be continued

* * *

-Read _Memories of a Best Friend_ for the 'good-natured brawl.'

-The _Fullmetal Alchemist_ manga had Hughes as a soldier in Ishbal. The anime does not. In the flashback of episode 25, Hughes tells Roy he should've avoided the war by taking a desk job like he did. However, this episode was made before the original author started showing Ishbal flashbacks in the manga. So AnimeHughes never fought in Ishbal, and this story is about the anime, not the manga.

-I'm thinking of closing this time of the story, with the continuing chapter set a year later.


	6. The General

The Woman He Loved

Chapter 6: The General

By Claudius

I claim no copyright to FMA

* * *

The alarm clock rang its bells at a quarter to six. The ringing 'helped' Gracia fight the urges of continuing her slumber. Within a half hour the young woman had cleaned and dressed. Then she headed down to the kitchen to work her culinary abilities. It was the usual habit every day. She fixed breakfast for herself and her father. The latter came to the table, ate, and left with little word. Things had not changed…

That is, until Gracia left the house for work. Her graduation year of 1906 was gone, as was 1907. Getting her license, Gracia Stern had become Nurse Stern by full right. A train took her to her employment, the old East Military Hospital. Ogre Schmidt was still around, barking orders, hiding her respect. Gracia found her duties even more wanted now than in her internship. The place had a lot of patients, some from a presently inexhaustible source. Amestris was still at war with Ishbal (_destroying_ Ishbal sounded a better word). The injured were taken back home, receiving medical priority over civilians. How long is this war going to last? She wasn't the only one wishing a better alternative. The Eastern City was spreading with anti-war protests. Gracia supported their views, but she didn't openly volunteer. Such inaction, not to mention military force, didn't hurt the cause. Eastern City was like a boiling pot with the top on. She knew what to expect.

If this meant Gracia loathed the army, she actually could not. For one thing, a lot of her patients were soldiers. The injured, the maimed, and the shocked, these people had her sympathy. For another, she had an army friend, Maes Hughes. Make that _Captain_ Maes Hughes. He received the promotion not over there but for over here. Now, a soldier not at war was a strange thing, but Gracia didn't mind the anomaly. Sure, the guy had muscles and great reflexes (not that he performed any of this prowess on Gracia, to her…well, relief was an exaggeration). But Maes didn't appear to be the authoritative, fighting, killing machine. He looked nice, funny, happy-go-lucky. The type who wouldn't hurt a fly…unless the fly really asked for it. No, his job was mostly behind a desk. He studied laws and precedents, and reported court cases, soldier activities both good and bad, and problems in the city. Sometimes he got himself into the action, assisting in investigations. He said little about that matter, always changing the subject.

Having Hughes around was a good thing for Gracia, since she was still living with her father. The demand of leaving the nest was not lost to Gracia (thanks Aunt Anya!). And there was no need to be a caregiver yet. Father wasn't slowing down; he wasn't even 50 years old yet! But she still waited for that day of gratitude. Not that she got that yet.

But if she wasn't appreciated at home, Gracia got the opposite outside, by work and person. Maes wasn't the only friend to stay around. There was Rizzie, who married her shining knight. The marriage was paradise…at first. Gracia knew her doubts about her friend's future, numbering the length of its success (It was a nasty flaw to nitpick, even if her suspicions came true). A few months and the marriage fell apart. They were so different, Rizzie discovered. He wasn't like this before they married, she complained. If one believed her story, the wedding band changed her beloved from prince to jerk. That was avoiding the cause, Gracia realized. The truth was Rizzie didn't know the man for whom she promised to spend her entire life. She was too spellbound by the romance to make a good decision. Before they both knew it, the passion died, their virtues became flaws, and a distance was built.

Gracia decided not to nag, hoping things would improve for her friend. And Rizzie refused defeat. She thought having a child would make things any better. It only served to stick them together unwillingly. As much as she felt sorry for Rizzie, Gracia was more sympathetic to the baby. A beautiful boy, Baby Gran was stuck in a loveless marriage, probably unwanted by the father. Gracia noticed that ignorance very deeply. Heirs or inconveniences, that is what kids mean to men. Her female compassion made Gracia the child's official babysitter. Maes himself volunteered as an assistant, although his care usually happened within her presence, never without. That meant something.

Yes, back to her male friend. Gracia's relationship with Hughes had gone into comfortable times. There were the conversations they had. He was gifted on ideas, culture, and politics, and she wasn't found wanting in exchange. They talked a lot. If there were arguments (usually about Maes' profession and the war), nothing was too serious to create a distance. In fact, Gracia actually expected to parry and thrust every defense Maes threw. And then there were silent moments. Walking together to or from the train, going for lunch. No words given, but no discomfort or awkward feelings either. Gracia had found one enjoyable friend.

But was she just _his_ friend too? Gracia was no idiot. The love Maes professed to her more than a year ago was probably still there. If not, then what of the expression Maes gave her at the opera one night? Gracia's dress was borrowed from a friend. The clothing was nothing special in comparison to the gorgeous splendor of the other guests. And than Hughes cast his eye on her. He went very silent. All the other goers became invisible to him. Did such devotion give her unease? The truth was…no. In fact, Gracia took some pride in it. Here was this handsome young man, undoubtedly a catch to every woman in the world! He could complement any gorgeous and beautiful lady. And yet his eyes were only on this less beguiling lady: herself. It was true Gracia had abandoned the frumpy look of her internship. She lessened the amount of hairpins and even wore makeup! But there always will be better-looking girls than her. To Maes it was the reverse. Gracia felt a positive richness in being beheld so lovingly by those lime green eyes.

But the objective went only so far. Yes, Gracia recognized Maes' sincerity. Reciprocating his feelings had good things (not just in a physical way, although that wasn't a bad thing either). But still Gracia held back. No poems. No kisses. No dating (No sex; how that word kept popping up like a phantom!). Any trigger to do so was blocked by something. It seemed the dam came by fear. There was still something mysterious about the man. Maybe something wrong (much more than that stupid dragon tattoo Maes got on his arm; what was Roy thinking?) As long as that doubt existed, commitment was risky. Ignoring it was Rizzie's downfall. No, she and Maes still lived in a satisfactory closeness. Things were comfortable. Don't get carried away.

Besides, any chance of development had another threat. That came from the oft-said-but-never-seen General A. M. Lalacon (Gracia learned his first name was Aaron, but the middle name was a mystery to everyone). He was Hughes' boss, from the Court Martial Investigations Division. This superior wore Maes hard like a shirt. This association existed before he went to the Academy. Maes claimed this man put him through the workout that made him into this 'gorgeous hunk you see before you.' He did joke about the General, calling him a slavedriver and the like. But he did feel a strong regard. Gracia had her ideas of this unseen superior. Strong, unyielding, unmoved by any gentleness. A man (So she still kept to the stereotypes!)

Lalacon put Hughes in a very busy life. But he managed to fit time to see Gracia. There was never a week where he was completely absent of her presence. Sure, he could have found better ways to waste his time. More proof of his feelings. It never frustrated her, though. If he wanted to be with her, then Gracia will make these moments as pleasant as possible.

After a few hours of work, Gracia went to lunch. Lunch was a small diner across the street from the hospital. She sat on a stool. She waited, taking on a predictable note. One, two…

"Hiya, Gracia!" Hughes entered on time. Ever jovial, always waving his greeting by hand. His swagger seemed lesser today, as if he had small weights in his pockets. Gracia knew a reason. "Another all-nighter?"

"Yeah." Hughes got on his stool, rubbing his eyes. "Real world sucks."

"I never had a doubt," Gracia smiled to what she thought was a joke. But Hughes sounded a little serious. Gracia saw his squinted eyes, from what she could see through those reflective glasses. Oh well, the cost of busy work! "Have you heard from Roy?"

Hughes arched one eyebrow. "The Flame Alchemist got his work cut out for him." His words shared some familiarity to his absent best friend.

Still, Roy didn't do much for Gracia, especially by that title of his. "Alchemy's the two edged sword. Isn't it supposed to help people?"

"Everyone has to make a living," Hughes defended his friend. He cut off any more words on that. And yet, his mouth looked stuffed, wanting to say something.

Gracia pressed him. "What's the matter?"

Hughes turned away. Then he heaved a sigh, ready to confess. "Paperwork. Lalacon's a tyrant. I met a killer."

Gracia suddenly felt the warmth leave the room. Her concerned face asked for truth.

Hesitance was named Hughes. He dragged his feet in speaking. "There was this killer. We tracked this scumbag down to a warehouse. He had a gun…" His head made dances to everywhere but Gracia. "The buddy with me was killed...right next to me…Geez, I stayed on the homefront to avoid things like this." He kept his smile throughout this experience of opposite tones.

Gracia lacked the forbearance. Death not unknown to her, she showed openness. "And is he still on the loose?"

Hughes' expression froze. He stopped turning his head, or nodding it. "The killer…is dead. I…saw him die."

Gracia paused, frozen by the mad horror of it. Hughes suddenly became reactionary. "Don't worry!" He quickly apologized. "I saw an officer do it!"

Gracia felt some ease, but not a lot.

"Nothing to worry about," Hughes tried to end this matter with a smooth end. "Problem solved. So, have you made your order?"

Gracia ignored the attempt to change the subject. "Why did it happen?"

"Because there was a killer, of course!" Hughes looked surprised.

"I know that, Maes!" Gracia snapped at this obvious point. "But wasn't there a better way to stop him?"

Hughes looked difficult holding his curved lip. "I don't think so."

Gracia was freer with her convictions. "I mean, couldn't he be disarmed?"

"Gracia," Maes heightened his voice.

"Maes, this is a bad thing, it…"

"There was no other way!" The statement was dramatic. It came from Hughes. "Geez, Gracia. Drastic times mean drastic measures!" He made an uneasy mix of chipper and pragmatism. No shouting, but not a casual tone either. "The guy's just a friend of mine, and I…think he has a lot on his mind. No need to pour salt."

Gracia's silence did not last. "But killing…?"

Hughes couldn't answer at first. He touched his head, acting all objective. "Yes, war asks for it." He sighed again, wary of this dark truth. "Turning the other cheek to people ready to kill you means something: You die. Back there, I almost died, so...he…" He stopped, as if an angelic face like his had enough speaking of evil things.

"You would think we lived in better times," Gracia still complained.

"Yes, because you're a nurse. You're kind. Killing, even a merciful one, is a no-no to you. For a strong soldier, it's a yes-yes to me…I'm a soldier. Not a nurse." Declaring something like that should lead to a bigger finish or revelation, but Maes failed to do that. "I'm sorry." He exhaustively apologized. "It's all been really weird."

Gracia nodded, herself guilty. "While I've been nothing but a righteous bitch about it."

"Na-na-na-na-no." Hughes melodramatically denied it. "No one should call you that. Not even yourself." His lines had a greater shot of sincerity than the previous ones. "You're alright."

Gracia felt pleasant, to a limit. "Poor man, your friend. I mean, if you, of all people, are having problems with it, what about him?"

"Yeah...poor guy..." He massaged his chin. "It's a weird area for anyone in his place."

"How can you talk to a guy after that?" Gracia spoke her two cents. "I don't think I could."

Hughes chuckled without mirth. "You're in the minority. People been slapping his back, praising his bravery…Great job, boy!"

Gracia felt only distaste. "I don't think so. I'd be looking for every excuse to avoid him."

Again, Hughes slowed for a reply. When he came with another "Yeah," his voice was even dimmer. Suddenly he let out a yawn, one that sounded rather unconvincing. But Gracia saw the man was really tired, so she didn't care.

Hughes quickly perked up. "Y'know, I'm not that hungry." He rubbed his stomach. "Got to watch my girly figure."

Gracia catered to Maes' rejection. All this talk about murder killed the appetite. They revolved upon their stools, turning to face the street. A lone figure blocked their view. An older woman, she wore the military blue. A striking face, riddled by age but not overcome by it, looked upon Hughes with demanding eyes.

"Captain Hughes," said the woman with a voice matching her glare. It was a tone that stilled Gracia. It said command. It said obedience. By the look on Maes' face, it meant end of story. He stood and saluted the woman. Though a little shorter, she contrasted Hughes like a monolith. "I expect a report on the Marsters Court Martial for tomorrow."

"But I…" Hughes began to protest. He cut off his words, squeezing his lips. "She who must be obeyed." He whispered with glee. Insincere.

Gracia felt a burst of puzzlement. Who was this woman? The question grew as her eyes saw Hughes obediently salute again. "Gotta go," He bid farewell and left. His stride was lighter, happier. Gracia accepted his change; nothing kept Hughes down for long.

But the woman still stood before her. It disturbed Gracia a little. Then she yielded a warm smile. "Good day. You must be Miss Stern. Captain Hughes told me a lot about you. Can we do lunch?"

Gracia said nothing. She would not be rude unless pressed. At the moment, the woman was given the benefit of the doubt. Soldier or not.

"Let's eat here," She sat down without invitation or protest. "Permit me to introduce myself. I am General Lalacon."

Gracia's touch with revelation was a shattering blow. "You're General Aaron Lalacon?" Though she had never met the boss, Maes gave her the impression of a male officer. Then she figured. _Aerin _M. Lalacon. Gracia detracted herself.

"Surprised?" Lalacon smirked. "So are a lot of people."

Gracia felt swamped in stupidity, a little unease on her face. "Maes has told me a lot about you...too." _Except for the fact that his boss is a woman!_ Justified hot words sparked her mind.

"Nothing good I bet," Lalacon's smirk bred confidence. "Captain Maes," she spoke the name with interest. "He is something of a fool."

"So are we all," If Gracia just heard Lalacon's words, she would find it an insult. Not even his recent discretion could turn her to agreement. Only, the aggressor's face shared no connection to her words. Her lack of malice calmed Gracia's anger. "Strange guy."

"I'm not one of your soldiers," Gracia still made her independence clear.

Lalacon locked her strong eyes with hers. But her reply was not of retaliation. "I asked him to write a letter. He gave me a C." There her eyes should bear irritation, but acceptance instead. "Barely changed since he was a boy. No matter the rejection, he always tried to please people by smiles, jokes, or aid. Always finished last because of that. Just the other day, he agreed to take up some investigation to help some officer. Seemed the fellow was too shaken to help capture a killer. So Hughes..."

"Please," Gracia wished some discretion. "Hughes told me the consequences of that."

Lalacon made a disapproving lip. "One of these days that generosity will bite him in the back."

Gracia waited enough to answer. "Maes has a good heart. Since when is it wrong to help people?"

"When they don't look after themselves too." Lalacon shot back.

Gracia smarted with reaction. "Look, I know you soldiers have to be cold and strong, but I'm sure a little compassion isn't too much!"

"I surrender!" Lalacon halted the future battle. "Never mess with a woman, as many of my male associates have learned."

Gracia retreated honorably. Lalacon made her food order, keeping silent for a minute. Then. "Did he ever tell you about his mother?" She smugly laid her question.

Gracia contradicted it with an air of gravity. "He never knew her."

She saw Lalacon looking just as grave. More graver. "Alicia Merron." She spoke the name slowly. "Hughes is a bit like her. She didn't want to fight in a war either. Unlike him, she did."

Gracia took that message like ice.

Lalacon spoke more, as if Gracia gave her a real question. "Soldiers fight. They kill. Losing innocence is a sad but necessary casualty for us human beings. Some deal with it better than others, though. You don't want Hughes to go to war?"

It was a simple question easily answered. But the smug, presumed way Lalacon gave it to her! "Of course not."

A half smile grew on the General's lips. "As long as he's working for me, General Aerin Mae Lalacon, your boyfriend will never make a step in Ishbal."

Gracia now got what she meant. "He's not my boyfriend."

"Sure. He's a boy and a friend, correct?" Lalacon's recognition wasn't entirely convincing.

Rather than go into some 'will/won't?' interrogation, Gracia gave a different point. "You sure weren't helpful keeping him from that recent trouble."

"What can I say? Maes pulled a fast one," Lalacon tensed with an air of resentment. "The fool can be calculating."

"Too bad," said Gracia, remembering his experience.

Lalacon seemed to share the same thoughts. "Hughes' mother saw a lot more." The hard gaze softened again. "Too much. She was my best friend. I thought we could be friends forever." Her eyes broke from Gracia. They gazed at something. It enriched the General's grim expression into something beautiful. Was it the memory of the mother? Suddenly, Gracia's intelligence brought her another blow. _Oh!_ She kept her mouth shut.

"Then she wanted a family," Lacalon sounded her regret. "It was the last war, before this madhouse of campaigns by Bradley...I wish to keep that remark stricken from the record." She joked. "Alicia had ended a life. Soldiers kill. But Alicia never could accept that. She wanted to redeem herself. And in her view the only way to make up for bringing death was to bring life."

Gracia continued to be stunned.

"Pretty crazy if you ask me," Lalacon continued. "I didn't want kids. Even now, I still don't want them."

Gracia appreciated this choice of hers (if not in agreement). But then she remembered Maes own words: "_Not my best entrance." _The combined knowledge of Mrs. Hughes left a sad taste.

"She went off and married some civilian. She seemed happy about it," she spoke a mingling of acceptance and doubt; uncertain which one was better. "Then…she died."

No emotion existed in that conclusion. No wonder, Gracia thought. Soldier she may be, but there are some things nothing can withstand.

"Um, if you don't mind, I got to get back to work." Gracia nervously started ending this tense situation. "I have enough to deal with."

Lalacon nodded. "Don't worry about your boy…friend. I'll bury him with reports and references."

"Yeah, you do that," Gracia was not convinced. "I have to go." Gracia left Lalacon and returned to the hospital. A lot was said in one lunchtime! A somber tale that disturbed even the happy-go-lucky Maes Hughes. Okay, she forgave the man. Considering she hurt his feelings with her negative opinion about the male gender, his secrecy about his boss' gender was probably a fair revenge. He better not do it again, though!

Adding to the somberness was Lalacon's eulogy for the late Mrs. Hughes! Gracia had read novels about the unrequited. But the General sure put a whole different spin to it! And what a woman: Smug, authoritative, and forceful. And yet for all her bluster, she had an interest in Hughes: sometimes disapproving, sometimes yielding, curious about his life, and overall protective. The General is a woman, Gracia acknowledged that fact. Maternity always wins through. Like her own departed mother...

Gracia sighed. This will going to be a _long _day.

* * *

Next time: As Gracia always suspected, a secret of Maes Hughes exists! A secret that not only threatens their friendship, but the man himself!


	7. The Face Crack'd

The Woman He Loved

Chapter 7: The Face Crack'd

By Claudius

To Colin Patrick…

No ownership to FMA.

* * *

The pot lid had blown in Eastern City. And Gracia Stern saw its mess. She had never been to a battlefield in war. What surrounded her today could be the closest thing to that experience.

The protests against the Ishbal war reached its peak in the Eastern City. This morning a large gathering came in front of East Command Headquarters, demanding an end to the war. Gracia would have joined them had her job not kept her occupied. She was lucky, due to the Command's answer to the protesters: Send out the troops. They fired at the crowd, creating retaliation. Both sides had wounded and dead in the panic. The hospital wards got flooded with casualties. The hours saw them multiplying. Incredibly, the staff was ordered to attend the soldiers first, despite the fact they were the minority.

Gracia cut off her objective focus. It didn't bear much scrutiny against so much carnage. Objectivity doesn't belong to nurses. Everywhere she went doctors and staff surrounded the injured like bees to honey. The white floors varied from pink to deep red to black. The place made a concert of screams._ "Somebody help me!"/"That leg's gotta go!"/"She's Blood A Negative!"/ "Oh geez!"/Where the fuck's the antiseptic!"/"So much blood!"_

Gracia had only a few experiences to bloody orgies like this. Not enough to be ready for this. Worse was the familiar faces. She saw John Evers, the baker's son, lying in pain. There lied Dale Gillion, a previous patient. But the one man she feared seeing here was absent. Hopefully Lalacon kept Maes out of this mess. Gracia soured at the acclaim. That was giving the higher-ups credit. These soldiers, she could not blame. Blame the higher-ups! Blame the officers in charge!

Sucking up her disgust, Gracia did her job. She got equipment, used equipment on patients, made verdicts, asked for physician's help and advice. But there were so many; some did not deserve this punishment while others did not deserve treatment.

An example of the latter was a bruised soldier with a sliced hand. "Let me stitch that," said Janis Branzy, a blonde nurse. She got to work closing the wound. The man smiled at her. "You're nice."

"Thank you."

Gracia watched Branzy finish her task. Then the officer made touches on the girl's back. "Say, after work, you want to…do something?"

Gracia could feel the man's sleazy breath. "Branzy, come here!" She gave a firm look at the nurse. Branzy obeyed. Gracia then shot a cold glare at the sleazy patient. She wanted to add to his suffering. So what if he got hurt? What about the civilian he harmed getting that wound?

Gracia and Branzy moved down the hall. They passed two soldiers' conversation. "Those protesters could really fight!" said one.

"But we fought harder."

Gracia lacked such praise. Guns can make anyone fight harder!

"Did you see that captain fly with his push-knife?"

The line froze Gracia.

"Gracia, are you okay?" Branzy asked her.

"Yes." Gracia nodded. They had to be talking about someone else.

Confirming her resolve left Gracia vulnerable to directions. She suddenly bumped into a person. Recognition brought a spontaneous blow of relief freeing her of fears. "You're safe, Maes."

But she found a strangeness on her unusually silent friend. Maes Hughes seemed happy, but his face carried a pale look. His usual grin had something odd to it. A sinister curve added to the smirk. She saw very little of his eyes, forever clouded by his glasses.

"I take it you got a first-hand look?"

Maes was slow in reply. "Things got a little out of hand."

Gracia considered his light description. Can even Maes make some positive point about this massacre?

"Nurse Stern!" cried a doctor.

Gracia made her way. Hughes followed. "You look okay, Maes."

"Murderer!" cried a civilian.

Hughes paused. Gracia herself felt a conflict of alliances. "Your…colleagues really made a mess."

"I seem to recall the rabble was there too." Hughes' response was obnoxious.

_Rabble?_ Gracia shot back in offense. "And what does that mean?"

"Well, I don't think they came to HQ for a rally."

Gracia threw all attention to her friend. "Maes, this wasn't the Ishbalan army at the gates!" She pointing at the patients. "Just normal people."

"Don't presume what normal people can't do…" Hughes came a little icy on that response. "Yeah, I know…C_ouldn't I have stopped it?_ Not my fault some of the protesters got restless."

"Hughes…" Gracia rolled her eyes.

But Hughes had a lot to say. "I've had enough of bleeding hearts whining about how the country should be run. I don't see any of them fighting the war or holding office. Grass is always worse on the other yard."

"Not to mention bloodier." Gracia added to the ice.

Hughes sighed. He looked very impatient, as if he wanted to stop the conversation. "Look, I'm a soldier and you're a nurse. We live in two different worlds."

"More like you're in your own little world," Gracia commented.

Hughes shrugged. Still with a smile, he started off without any more words.

The departure changed Gracia. All her anger dissipated. Why were they so quick to argue? This massacre bothered him too. Guilt wanted her to apologize. Gracia rubbed her forehead. She wanted to go after Hughes and patch things up between them. But the cries of the wards forced her to patch other things up.

* * *

The hours went on, as lives were saved and others were lost. Even Gracia found her limits. After treating her umpteenth patient (how many today? They all became one big stained blur to her), she darted to a quieter hallway. She went to another corridor, and another, each one emptier than the other, with the cries diminishing. She was alone now. The quiet…She breathed the atmosphere, her mind attempting to organize everything. The living, the dead, the war, Hughes' argument.

A sound broke that trance. It came from a corridor. Gracia walked to its mystery. A little fear told her to run back. She paid it no heed.

The calm snapped by strong hands grabbing her. "Hello, cutie!" cried a recognizable voice. The sleaze! He held her secure despite her protests. "No point in screaming."

Gracia found herself dragged into a closet. Body and mind fought for freedom. The hand! She bit the wound. Release!

The man growled but was undefeated. "Bitch!" The back of his hand met her face. "Do you know how long I waited to fuck a woman? I couldn't get any from Ishbal. Not a single native woman! Now I come home and then comes these stupid protesters."

Gracia leaned to the wall. Pain was a new enemy.

"I really wish you were prettier," the man sounded like an animal. "But beggars can't be choosers."

Gracia fell to her knees on purpose. Her hands grabbed a bucket and flung it backwards. Hearing him gasp ensured some success. She crawled away, not knowing if her actions worked or not. The door opened to her desperate hopes. Then she felt a burden on her.

The door quickly closed, its seal a sign of doom.

It slammed open. Gracia suddenly felt free. She heard fighting. She turned and watched. Maes was here! He pounced upon the attacker. But the assailant was strong. He punched and shoved Hughes aside. Back to her feet, Gracia watched her friend attack again. His prowess fell on the sleaze. It stunned Gracia; she had witnessed little of Hughes the combatant. It also thrilled her; as much as she hated the role of damsel-in-distress, being rescued was not a problem.

But her excitement changed to chills. The assailant wasn't fighting anymore. Only Hughes' beating grew. He became quicker, more savage upon his victim.

"Stop it!" Gracia screamed at this violence. She charged for intervention. Maes responded to her with a fist. Gracia stopped before the oncoming assault. The fist's suspension did little to calm her realization: Maes was going to punch her! But the shock was not hers alone. Maes' own discovery had melted his fierce look. His glasses fell off, revealing his eyes. The lime pupils were frozen with an intense sickness. The eyes of a killer. His features trembled from frown to smile.

All Gracia could do at this sight was shed a tear.

Two officers, two nurses, and a doctor entered the corridor. "What happened?"

Two shocked people had trouble speaking. Maes blinked his eyes, deaf to everyone's ears. He knelt and searched for his glasses. He got them and arose, finally registering the presence. "Arrest this officer for attempted rape." He strode off.

* * *

Gracia's own realization was as slow and difficult. These officers questioned her. Yes, the man was going to rape her, and Maes rescued her…_Maes' eyes... _

The scene had set an upset look upon her face for the rest of her shift. Offers to take her place were kindly refused. The woman acted as if the events did not happen. She did her work as efficiently as before. Everything outside was well. But things festered in their own dark ways. Like the pages of a picture book, images and words flashed in her mind.

"Get me the morphine!"

_("See that captain fly with his push-knife?")_

"How's the leg now?"

_("Murderer!")_

"I'll get to you in a minute. Ron?"

_("Stop!")_

"Ron?"

_("Arrest this man...")_

"_Ron!"_ She screamed.

"I'm here!" cried a nurse. "No need to holler!"

"Sorry…" Gracia apologized. "Take this man to surgery."

Gracia rued her temper. No matter the priorities, her memories failed to wait for the end of the shift. She was stuck with it. Everything she saw and heard. The clues and the facts. And the conclusion…

The night came with serenity, but none for the staff of East Military Hospital. Gracia's shift ended. There ended the excuse not to think about _it_. Now _it_ awaited her full force. Him. Those eyes.

She should head home. Maybe _he_ felt the same way. But Gracia went to Maes' building instead. She had to know, damn the consequences! She came up the steps of the desired floor. After graduation, Hughes kept the lodgings he shared with Roy. Gracia visited the place many times, giving a woman's touch. It had been a few months since her last visit.

She knocked at the door. The door opened to reveal darkness. "Come in." Said a jovial voice. Such mirth in darkness had an uneasy effect. Gracia slowly entered with caution. Her unclear reason lingered when she spotted Maes. He stood against the window, half seen, half-hidden.

Gracia spoke well despite her anxiety. "You left…I didn't get to thank you."

"You're welcome!" Hughes sprang his response. He appeared a different person, as if that fighter was some impostor. It should ease Gracia and her concern. But satisfaction eluded her. He still kept his eyes hidden. "Y'know Gracia," he smirked. "I think it's best we don't see each other anymore."

"What?" Gracia heard the statement, but not understanding it.

"Remember?" The man calmly explained. "I'm a soldier, you're a nurse. We're from two different worlds."

Not this again! "Maes," Gracia set things straight. "We're not that close!"

"Which will probably make this easier." He strode to the door. "Goodbye." He set a smug farewell. Gracia tensed at his behavior. How can a smile be so cold? She resisted, heading to the darker point of her visit. "Did something happen?"

Silence. Gracia realized her success. Big deal.

Hughes showed defeat in a smile. "Well, cats outta the bag now!" The calm voice and smile were the only parts that showed any pleasure. For Gracia saw his eyes again, as cold and hard as ever. Blood drained from her face. Experience and clues didn't ready her for the reality. "Y-You killed someone?"

"Yep." Hughes was nonchalant. "Not my first though."

Gracia wasn't ready for that. In her shock, her intelligence lingered to something else.

_("The killer…is dead. I…saw him die.")_

That conversation a month ago! A level of stupidity and ignorance was hers now, with it anger and humility. But she kept a good front throughout it all. "What have you done?" Her words sounded like a diner order.

Hughes had lesser success. A new emotion was coming in his cold eyes. Sweat dripped on his face. His body shook with slight tremors. "I assisted the Major in searching for that killer, remember? We tracked him to this abandoned building. My comrade got killed. I got angry and searched for him alone." Hughes acted like he was experiencing the memory now. Gracia was his captive audience.

"The killer attacked. He was stronger then me. Nothing I could do to restrain him. I then got this thought: I was going to die. I didn't want to! I wanted to live! So I threw my knife into his head!" His hand gestured the attack, before it cringed into a ball, repulsively averted from his eyes. "He fell, staring back at me as he died. I still see the blood dripping from his face."

Hughes was quiet. Gracia needed time to digest this truth. She found it hard to look at the man.

Such quarter was not allowed, for Hughes spoke again. "The second time was easier."

Gracia covered her mouth to this encore.

"The mob started pelting us with rocks. The officers in charge ordered the troops. I was so angry. He deserved it…" He leaned his head, not exactly in grief.

Gracia somehow got the strength to protest. "He was innocent."

Wrath sprang Hughes' face. Gracia saw his hand lung to her blouse. He crossed the door pulling her with him. "I did nothing wrong!" He nearly cost Gracia her balance. Her equilibrium restoration made her see Hughes' face squeezed with misery. "Oh shit, everything's going straight to shit!" He too was losing his balance, like a doll breaking. He buried his face.

Gracia saw all of this against her normal presumptions. The feeling of utter disappointment added to her fears. Maes Hughes was an easy-going man that nothing seemed to ruffle. Who wouldn't hurt a fly! Not this man! "Maes, please…"

"I killed him." Hughes raised his face like a jackknife. The cool pleasance resumed on his face. "He didn't have a murderous bone in his body. But there was a panic."

Gracia was fast losing breath at this suddenly unstable scene.

"Out of nowhere he came running to me." Hughes spoke so calmer. "I cut his throat then and there. Like instinct."

"Stop it…" Gracia shut her eyes. This was all a dream. It had to be!

But Hughes continued his reminisces, looking more complacent. Or mad. "I was praised for my work. They patted me on the back. _Good job!_ I've done so much, and nobody's blamed me. I've killed and it's 'Good job!?'"

Much to Gracia's dismay, Hughes looked at her. "Maybe they're right. Maybe _I'm_ something wrong. I can kill..." The smile turned crooked. "I was born for it. My mother…"

"Don't!" Gracia snapped. Her own front shattered in rebellion. Against his horrible idea of matricide, fighting that mad smile. She raked that smug face with her hand. His expression went still for a moment, than it returned.

"But Gracia..." He said. "You said it. You don't want to hang around a man like me."

The woman's self-righteous air deflated. Words she might have said returned in dim recollections.

("_I'd be looking for every excuse to avoid him.")_

"I didn't…" Gracia reacted in denial. "I didn't say that…"

"You did!" Hughes' cool lessened with his distance. His words left Gracia open to the surprise of strong hands grabbing her own tightly. "You must hate me…" His sorry eyes sparked insanity. "I'll make you hate me!"

Deja vu hit Gracia like a train. Hughes' glare shook with a terrible intention. It struck her intelligence with its mad imagination.

Of Hughes pulling her to the bed…

Her screams piercing as he tore open her blouse and skirt…

His ignorance to every cry as he took front upon her…

His animal motions as he kissed her neck and chest, ramming himself on her again and again…

Such images flashed thru Gracia's scared fantasy. In truth, her 'rapist' had not gone anywhere beyond the grabbing and mad stare. The intensity increased. Hughes' head bowed, cringing and crushed. He no longer smiled. A sick horror erupted on his face, more frightened than his intended victim. He heaved and gasped, ready to scream.

Instead Hughes collapsed like a puppet of clipped strings. His head made an impact with the table before joining the rest of his body to the floor.

Gracia remained standing. A minute passed and she remained on her feet. Time disappeared from her presence. She had no idea what to do. Only what he did. He killed…He was going to…

The trance broke as she saw a red flower blooming near the man's head. Gracia knelt and touched his head. A head wound. Rather extreme. Treatment?

Gracia, what are you doing? Running away is the best idea. Time to leave and never return. You saw Maes nearly kill somebody, and he succeeded before. Twice! The kind, smiling man is really this scary mental freak that ended lives. This was nothing like Rizzie dating a prince and marrying a jerk. Maes…killed. Gracia, this is what you wanted, right? To see Maes have feet of clay. Now you can put him behind you.

Yes, Gracia realized. She had her truth now. And it hurt. The door should be attracting her thoughts.

Instead, Gracia's long arms surrounded Maes' neck. She blocked his wound with a handkerchief. His troubled head didn't feel her close embrace, or her stoic tears. Soon she bandaged the man's head. It felt like a hazy dream, and it continued. Hughes' body got pulled to the bed. Gracia then sat before his legs, peeling off his boots and socks. Maes' broad arms were pulled this way and that as his red shirt and undershirt was removed. Gracia failed to note the broad shoulders, plump chest or washboard abs. She just continued with her work, unbuckling his belt, and unclasping the blue pants button. Gracia removed herself from the bed, pulling the trousers by their sleeve ends. Only Maes' red-and-white-striped boxer shorts remained. Gracia pulled the plaid covers from under her semi-nude 'patient', tucking it over him.

Next Gracia searched his clothes, his closet and dresser. Every push-knife she seized and placed into her purse. The small cupboard near the kitchen sink was also robbed of its sharp utensils. Her hands cut and bled. Her purse will suffer, Gracia noted to herself.

That was finished. Gracia got her coat on, ready to turn off the light, and leave the room. She was done for today. Done with Maes Hughes. Time to go home. She opened the door. The end.

The door closed behind her.

* * *

It was not a peaceful night.

Maes Hughes contorted his body. The plaid covers moved like a violent sea. His eyes sometimes opened with no comprehension of his surroundings. He saw only what his insane mind portrayed. He moaned like a wounded animal. His face gave new expressions of torture.

Gracia thought she never saw anything so terrible. Her eyes were immune to his hunky physique, aware of his mental faculties instead. What could he be dreaming? Her help could only be physical. Wipe a wet handkerchief on his forehead. Hold his hand. When Maes sprang out in delirium, she pushed him back into bed. He wept a lot. She never saw a man cry like that.

"Roy…" That was one of the words he cried a couple times. Some he screamed. Her name. His father. Others he whispered. "I'm sorry…"

"There, there," Gracia cooed.

"I'll be good," His voice cringed. "Don't hate me…"

Gracia tensed. "Never." She spoke her own tender whispers, fighting the nightmares her own way. Within an hour, all these attempts drew Maes' somnambulist behavior to a tranquil state. Gracia lay on the bed. That is, in her clothes, with the covers separating them. No funny business right now.

And she cried herself. No one who experienced this day's events of violence, death, deceit, and suffering could escape it without vulnerability. Gracia exploded with all the repressed pain, anger, betrayal, despair bottled up this day. She had much to blame. At the mad world that desired war and violence! A world that ended lives in battlefields or streets! A world that ruined women…and men like Maes Hughes!

Like her emotions, Gracia's thoughts deepened. What was she doing here, alone with this man? A madman. A liar. A killer...but not a monster. From the moment she held him, Gracia saw a man who suffered. Whose pain she somehow shared like her own. Gracia yearned for the happy and kind man she knew.

But did that man ever exist? He had deceived her with his 'nothing is ever completely negative' attitude. A sham. But then, she was no different. Mask her emotions to hide pain. That's what Gracia practiced. Only Maes did this to the next level, to the point of insanity. How much hurt was under that cheerful, kind face? More than she had ever concealed.

Fortunately, the chaos had eased now. Maes slept on his stomach, his dog tag on his back. Gracia's fingers brushed upon his sweating black hair, all moppy and disheveled. So much a boy, she thought. He looked peaceful, as if his sufferings passed like a disease. Gracia felt a little better. Not much though, for she knew it to be short. So she kept watch. Any fatigue was feared by dangerous thoughts. What if he awoke? What if he sickened and died? Harmed himself? With no trust for his safety, Gracia had to make him live.

Eventually, Gracia did sleep. She realized this by awaking. She turned to Maes. He was still asleep.

Morning had now come. Gracia got out of the bed, walking to the kitchen. Food was either absent or spoiled. She had not seen him eat much since that dark day. How long was this 'fasting'? An unhealthy lifestyle needed the opposite effect. So with a huge risk, Gracia went outside. So what if others saw her? Her reputation was far from her mind as she bought some food from the vendor stand. She returned back up the stairs and to the room. The ease stopped at entry. Maes was sitting at the edge of his bed. His glasses were the only thing he put on. His tired face bore confusion that became surprise. A humble word came from his tired lips. "Hiya."

A silence dared to come to the scene, but Gracia broke it up. "Oh, you're awake!" She acted chipper. She started for the kitchen.

"So you…w-were here?" Hughes stuttered with dread.

Gracia hummed a yes. She looked at him. Maes' white face grew worse. "Did we?"

"No," Gracia sounded that answer.

"N-no, I-I didn't mean anything!" Maes awkwardly protested. "I just…thought…I'm sorry." He replaced his madness for humility.

Gracia was silent in responding to that apology. She marched to the stove. "I thought I could fix you something." She heard the bedsprings. Maes was on his feet! That was something for Gracia to see. For the prize of her attention, the vegetables on the table made a sad competitor to a muscled ripped man wearing nothing but a dog tag and boxer shorts.

Maes noted his unclad self. "D-Did you…"

"Yes…don't be too embarrassed." Gracia straightened herself. "I saw you naked before."

"I had pajamas."

Gracia's composure nearly fell with that one! "Well…I…forgot."

No other words passed. A good atmosphere began to unsettle. "If you want me to stay..." Gracia waited for the finish. Hughes remained silent. "Okay." She took the hint. The young woman turned to the door, grabbing her purse. "You can keep the food."

Gracia closed the door behind her, this time outside the apartment. She walked back down the steps. Thoughts mixed on her resolve. Memories to trust, revelations that betrayed, compassion needed, feelings realized. She will return. Now in the street, she looked at his window. Funny, she half expected to see Maes come out and climb down to her presence.

The funny became serious when Maes finally acted on her imagination. Still in his boxer shorts, he climbed and leapt to her like some wild man! She was never going to hear the end of this! Her humility became trivial when Maes bore his first smile of the day, humble and worn. He grabbed his temple. "I really...can't be alone right now. Can you..."

"Yes I will," Gracia hypnotically spoke her acceptance.

Maes nodded before looking at himself. "Can I put something on first?"

Gracia rebounded back to the embarrassment. Oh well. Better than the angst!

* * *

The field's green was vibrant from the sunlight. Gracia resumed her cooking plan, and the pair took the results out to the park. A bench was their breakfast table. She saw Hughes quietly eat. A sad mark didn't leave his face, still very drawn from last night. But he behaved a little easier, the answer to letting out those suppressed feelings.

Many times Gracia became the target of her companion's confused stares. Wariness? "You're scaring me." She remarked in humor.

Amazingly, this Hughes was invulnerable to jokes. "Why are you here?"

Gracia searched the question's meaning. Her silence made Hughes lower his head more.

"You're my friend."

Hughes was unmoved. "B-But I've…the 'k' word. You shouldn't be around me. I tried to..." He shuddered from that thought, looking ready to vomit. "I'm not worth it...after what I really did."

A frown barely came through on Gracia's mouth. Now who's playing the happy face? "It wasn't your fault…well, actually it was…I mean." Her words treaded upon a dangerous mine field here. "It's nothing…I mean it's really something…but…" Gracia rubbed her forehead. "I'm really not helping things, am I?"

Hughes just gazed out at the field, his mind probably doing the talking. He gulped some more food. At least he was eating. "Gracia...Who am I?"

"You're Maes Hughes."

Rather than shout at such patronizing, Hughes took that as granted. "That seems to be the only real thing. I really don't know who I am. The mystery...scares me, especially now."

"Maes," Gracia sharply answered.

As if affected, Hughes changed his course from any disturbing theories. "Whoever I am, I'm not the same as before." He gave no optimism in that epiphany.

"Does that have to be a bad thing?" Gracia seriously asked.

By Hughes' grim profile, a surprise didn't come. "Do you hate me for what I did?" He tensed after that question.

Gracia spoke the truth. "I hate...what you did. You? No."

Hughes gazed at her, as if to confirm her sincerity. It was little help. "That's kind. Too bad it doesn't belong here. Against strength, kindness is nothing." Hughes' brow set to a grim thought. "The kind die. The strong get crueler. Kindness gets shunned while strength is praised. How can I be kind after what I did? What's the point?"

Gracia soured. She thought of something best to say. "Maybe we need a little of both."

Hughes' eyes shot her again. A residue of warmth grew in the cold pupils. "Are you trying to put words in my head, Miss Stern?" His remark was accusing, but the tone sounded complimentary.

"Just trying to help," Gracia spoke her mind, no matter the response. She got none. "As you always tell me: nothing is ever completely negative."

"Yeah," Hughes moaned. "But _Negative_ is 99 percent of the total."

Gracia made a fake snicker. "Even the tiniest light shines brightest."

Still Hughes made no reaction to this philosophy. He finished his breakfast. He returned the empty dish. "Thank you." He somberly arose. "I have to go."

"Not without me." Gracia arose as well. "I'm going with you."

Hughes gave a frown.

"No way." Gracia exhibited her last name. "I really don't know what you went through. What I do know is that you really need a friend right now." Gracia fumed her confidence and stubbornness. "I'm no Roy Mustang, but I think I'm enough."

Maes' refusal wasn't arrogance. "I-I could still do something to you." His voice was ill saying it. "Do you really want to stay with me?" His eyes continued the fear, but they showed a wishful gleam as well.

Gracia gulped all reluctance in her resolve. She hid all ill with a smile. "Well, I'll change my mind once I get a black eye."

Hughes jerked away. She came closer. "Please."

Maes turned his head a circle. He shrugged his shoulders in defeat. "Come on."

* * *

A few days passed. Like physical wounds, mental healing also took some time. When she could allow it, Gracia was near Hughes. She stopped at Command to see his activities. She called him at night. She gave him food and saw that he ate it. When he grew whiskers, she shaved his face in the lavatory. He couldn't be trusted with a razor. Maes didn't mind the care. Overall, Gracia wanted to have their time together give him a better experience. It seemed to be having an effect. If Hughes didn't look happy, at least he appeared well. It appeared.

The unknown haunted Gracia. She didn't know her success or failure. She was blind to Maes. Every expression of pleasure he showed could be a mask. Any positive word or remark might be a deceit. A complacent assurance from him could easily hide emotions of something darker.

In a cruel irony, Gracia knew that struggle to hide. As strong a demeanor she gave, inside was fear on what Hughes might do. This obliviousness frightened her. But she could not give up.

One day, she went to East Command to learn Hughes went to a cemetery. Gracia came quick to the place. When she spotted him, ease came. Maes stood quietly before a tombstone. His posture was mounting, a big difference from before.

Gracia walked closer. The tombstone was unknown to her. _Henri Volkenburg._ She saw flowers on the grave.

"I did some digging about my…victim," Hughes spoke to her attention. "He has a son. Poor kid's going to grow up without a father."

Gracia registered this sad truth, unable to give a positive view. Who could, or who would?

"He's about three. No matter how much his father was there for him before, the boy will forget he ever existed." With hands in pockets, Hughes looked a little isolated. "Life's so much harder now. Mercy and redemption seem so distant to me now."

Gracia's sad eyes showed. She had failed.

But Hughes clutched the back of his neck, giving a humble smile. "Guess I'm gonna have to do a lot of running!"

Gracia gasped. If she had seen everything, she was very mistaken. Before her eyes stood a new man. The cringing, despairing man was missing from this Maes Hughes. Nor was he the happy-go-luckiness man. Here was a different person. Flawed, hopeful, determined. Real.

Sensations welled up inside Gracia. Her heart skipped. She was impressed. Attracted by this transformation.

Maes quickly submerged to his happier facade. "Yeah!" He broke his solemnity with a laugh. "I got my act back together!"

Gracia sighed. Oh well. It was progress. She would like to see that real person again.

Hughes made a few steps of departure. He turned, stretching his hand out. Gracia joined his side. She got swept up in a hug.

"Thanks," came a soft whisper to her ear. She didn't answer; too busy smiling. _Who are you, Maes Hughes?_ Gracia really wanted to know.

This time, it was Maes who let go first. Hand in hand, the two walked out of the cemetery together.

"By the way, can I have my knives back?"

* * *

To be continued

Next time: Love


	8. Looking Deep

The Woman He Loved

Chapter 8: Looking Deep

By Claudius

* * *

Gracia was caught against her will. Bare male arms trapped her in a tight embrace. Both her hands latched onto one arm. She turned and shook, meshing against her captor's muscled skin. But her struggle was for naught. He was on her. His hot breath tickled her neck. "Make me let go," he whispered.

"Fine!" Gracia struggled with all her strength. She grunted in the climax.

With a throw, Maes Hughes went flying over her. He hit the beach, laid flat on the sandy terrain. Gracia walked closer to the defeated. Clothed only in white trunks, Maes looked more like a sunbather than the victim of another's self-defense. His body remained still, but only his head tilted at Gracia. "That hurt. Good for you."

"Really?" Gracia felt a mixture of concern and thrill over her victory.

Maes sat up, slowly with a crooked smile. Again Gracia felt some guilt. Nevertheless, this was part of the training. After her experience with that sleaze (and afterwards), Gracia needed some defense. So she asked Maes to teach her some moves. In but a week, she proved a quick-learner, much to her teacher's physical sacrifice.

"Don't worry, I still have a few hundred bones left to break." Hughes tried to get up. Gracia assisted his rise by grabbing his arm. They stood very close. Gracia stilled. She had an unsettling feeling, but not a disturbing one. With Maes, she didn't feel uncomfortable. This bizarre ease came with thoughts of continuing these lessons (or something in a horizontal position).

Suddenly, Hughes quickly broke his hand free, throwing both arms behind his back. "Oops, sorry!" He made an awkward snicker, looking at everyplace but Gracia. "Now where are my glasses?"

Gracia hid her disappointment. "Let's go back."

The two joined their friends at the spot in the beach. Rizzie sat with her son Gran on a towel. The kid was now walking, making his mother's vigil more difficult. Such moments Gracia watched as she put on her straw hat and robe. Despite her problems with Rizzie's marriage, she believed it made a pleasant creation in Gran. The now-spectacled Maes thought so too, holding the kid to his direction and dangling his dog tag over his little fingers. Gran was so adorable, as young boys were before...

Gracia blocked her judgments. There was a lot more to men than she knew and understood. Anyway, she enjoyed Gran's presence with envy. Rizzie had such a benefit, even with the disadvantage of a lousy husband. She sported shortened hair. Gracia noted the symbolism: A saying went that when the wife's hair goes short or the husband gets hair on his face, there is discontent in the marriage. A hairdo came a little too late for that message.

Gracia wanted to talk. Maes sprang up, wrapping his rainbow towel around his trunks. Then he hoisted Gran to his arms with ease. "C'mon kid, the women are talking. Let us men go off." He proudly strode off with the boy.

"It was a good idea to have a picnic here," Rizzie was thankful. Gracia smiled. As much as wanted to help her friend though, she wanted to aid Hughes as well. Give him a good time and get his mind off his experiences. And Gran ensured that solution. Her thoughts made, she listened to Rizzie's talk about her husband. "He's been raised to the bar. He has little time for Gran." Rizzie sadly noted. She looked to the direction of her son and Hughes. "I try to get his father to play with him. No luck. Maes comes around and does it without any word from me."

Gracia nodded. "He just loves children." She believed it.

"You have it made."

"Now wait!" Gracia halted the idea. "We're just friends."

This protest confused Rizzie. "But you've known him for almost two years. Is it only a friendship?"

Gracia slowly nodded, absorbing that serious question. She watched Maes in the distance, treating the child as an equal. The same man as usual, but a difference had come. And Gracia saw herself as a part of the change. Had she borne witness to Hughes' dark moment two years ago, it would be over. No contact, no regrets. That past self would be shocked to see Gracia now. Time had given her a link with Maes that any reservations could not easily sever. The rapport was almost empathic. His pain hurt her. His happiness (when it was identified) appeased her. His presence pleased her. His absence did not. Gracia knew such ties could give consequences both wonderful and terrifying.

What did she see in him? Understanding Hughes was comparable to locating a needle in the haystack. And yet Gracia made the attempt. There was the chiseled face and muscles, but these were bonuses. Good to look at and touch. But, for all her naughty fantasies, the physical hardly covered a quarter of the overall attraction. The majority offered better factors. Maes was a smart and gifted man. She liked his playfulness, enjoying his humor. He was a generous man, willing to help friends and people, especially kids. And his intentions had sincerity. Like his affections to her…

But the recent weeks brought a new factor. His vulnerability. Underneath the happy face was a soul terribly haunted over doing mad things. And yet Maes persevered. He accepted his faults and faced them for the better. That humility was so powerful and real. After seeing his epiphany at the cemetery, Gracia believed she had her final understanding of Maes Hughes: He was no saint, but far from a monster. He was a man. Yes, Gracia agreed to that point. A man.

Not so easily absorbed, however, was his problem of letting that vulnerability show. Hughes had revealed himself not to be an open person. Recovery was a slow, hard road, and he wanted to take it alone. Gracia could not accept that wish.

"Here we are!" Maes returned. He walked with Gran, his upper body hunched down to be-hand-in-hand with the kid. "I'm afraid all this fun has gotten the kid a little excited." He plugged his nose.

The women smirked.

"Don't worry!" Hughes knelt down. "You can now add diaper-changing among my many gifts!" He then proceeded to do so. "Special thanks to Gracia."

Rizzie gave Gracia such a knowing look. Hughes was too busy changing the baby.

"There you go!" Maes lifted the boy. "Nice and clean, at your best before these beautiful women."

Gracia sighed. Rizzie blushed as she was handed her son.

Hughes then lay on his towel, exposing his nicely rounded body to the sun. Gracia did the same. When Maes turned over, head buried in arms, Gracia was under his gaze. It went vice versa, Gracia admitted.

"Oh, Gran," Rizzie got cross at her son. "You got sand all over yourself." She wiped him with a towel.

"Oh, it's just a little mess," Gracia dismissed the action.

"Yep," Maes turned on his side. "It's not like breaking a window like...some kid I heard about." Hughes slowed his example. "He could do worse things that can make you stop loving him."

"Like what?" Gracia sparked at her male friend with a firm correction. "Nothing can justify hating your child."

Maes stared at her, confused. "Yeah. You're right." He bowed his head back into his arms. The gesture didn't escape notice.

Shortly after, Gracia, Rizzie, and Gran became participants of a camera. Maes snapped a few pictures of everyone, including himself. Photography was his hobby. "Some people believe pictures take away something, like your soul," He informed. "I, for one, believe it leaves you something _for_ your soul."

Soon the sky began to gray, ending the picnic. They were all beginning to leave save for Maes. "I'm taking a brief swim."

Gracia walked off with Rizzie and Gran to the dressing rooms. A minute later, she looked back at the shore. A man's back stuck out in the waters.

The sight brought cold to Gracia's heart. She quickly ran to the waters. Maes was floating face down. "Maes!"

Hughes' head arose with a grin. "Missed me?"

Gracia kept her shocked expression. In the quick seconds Maes took to stand back up, the woman's nerves exploded. "You stupid asshole!" She made a potent hit to his stomach, causing him to stagger. Gracia almost lost her balance as well. Regaining it, she turned away. Sounds of splashing and her name repeatedly came to her ears.

"C'mon Gracia!" Hughes apologized with a smooth cry. "It's a joke! Do you think I'd actually end it all in a public place like this?"

His logic could not puncture Gracia's angry silence. The next words she heard were less cool. "I'm sorry. I never wanted to hurt you."

Still Gracia said nothing, taking another direction to avoid.

Then her ears felt a vulnerable tone. "Gracia, please don't hate me."

Deja vu stopped Gracia's escape. She turned around with a reluctant confrontation.

Hughes was relieved. "I just wanted to calm your fears."

"Nice way of showing it." Gracia coldly replied. "Do you know how many years I've lost out of worry these days?"

Maes squirmed.

"I had a dream," Gracia was cold telling it. "You were smiling in a bathtub."

A dose of red fell on the man's cheeks. "One of those?" He slyly asked.

Gracia was deadpan. "You smiled with slit wrists, and kept on smiling as the bath turned red."

The red on Hughes faded into white. "I'm so sorry…" Shame weighted his face.

Sympathy eased Gracia's anger. She touched his shoulder. "I know it's not been easy for you. I've been afraid."

"O-Of me?" Hughes asked.

"No, not you." Gracia assured him. "But what you might do to yourself. I want to help."

Hughes stared at this revelation. "But I'm okay!" He broke into a gleeful assurance. "Can't you take a joke?"

Gracia hit the wall again. A barrier made by that poker face, the Happy Face of Hughes. He broke from her touch. "Whoops! Did it again!" he nervously danced his retreat.

Gracia crooked her head. Why did he have to close up?

Hughes had spring in his steps, sauntering right before her. Right near a child. Fortunately, awareness and pause came through by both adults. In Maes' case he knelt down to the boy. "Hey, watch where you're going," his warning was devoid of severity.

Not so the woman grabbing the child. "Get away from him you murderer!"

Gracia stood confused. Hughes arose slowly, his eyes widening. The woman looked grave, from a face that once rarely suffered rage. She swept the crying child into her arms. "It's okay, Henri."

Gracia noted her friend going completely white in body.

"Having a nice time?" The woman threw her sarcasm like poison. "The big brave soldier celebrating Cleaning Day! Killing defenseless men like my husband?"

Gracia's intelligence found a cold realization. Mrs. Volkenburg? She remained separate from both man and woman, feeling sympathy to all.

Comforting her fatherless child, the mother spouted cruelty. "Your mother should have died before bringing you to this world!"

Gracia went breathless at such a horror. That line came like a saw to Maes. His cherubic face deteriorated into a grave, meditating stance. He planted his hand on his temple. Apology was there, but with no way to be delivered.

The woman and child left, leaving their mark. Hughes raised his head. Up came those lips again! "Guess we won't need the rain to ruin this day." But he didn't spring anymore. He walked with hands behind his back, as if he dragged weights.

"Stop thinking like that!" Gracia banged his shoulder. "Sure, right now you probably wish you were never born! There are some advantages…"

"Thanks, Gracia."

But Gracia got to her point. "And your friend Roy would have drowned as a child, or ended up being an even bigger jerk than he is now. I would have been hurt…and a lot of people you helped would be in bigger trouble without your meddling."

Maes stopped.

"Face it, Maes. You're stuck. Freeing yourself of existence would harm a lot of people! I mean…"

"Gracia, stop it!" Hughes snapped. He got silence and dissolved his temper. Again he palmed his temple. "I'm starting to believe you."

Gracia felt assured of her consolation. But how much did she help?

"It's still a long road ahead for me, Gracia," Maes spoke of isolation. "And I'm not the only one who hasn't got it easy. Bet you haven't had it nice, right?"

A lot of times, Gracia wanted to scream. She wished to share this turmoil, walking closer.

Hughes shied away. "Support for the war has increased. Your friend's marriage is coming apart. Another friend went nuts." He nodded to that one. "And what nearly happened...two in one day…" He started to move further.

Gracia stopped his retreat. She was tender. "But you stopped it…remember?"

Hughes shrugged away. "I almost…"

"But you did not!" Gracia interrupted. With her own strong face she countered his pessimism. "There is nothing wrong about you."

"Can you quit it?" Hughes groaned again. But his expression became fuller, pleasant without a smile. He surrendered by his gentle eyes. Gracia looked back at them. Words became unneeded. Something could happen.

But again Hughes backed away. "At this rate, Rizzie and Gran'll be already dressed." He ran off to the dressing rooms. Gracia was left to herself.

* * *

The following day, Gracia entered East Command. The giant place still made her shudder. Its new prestige made her feel worse. Rather than hurt the army's reputation, the riot known as 'Cleaning Day' had a different effect. It worsened the public view of the anti-war campaign. The protesters were now seen as disturbers of the peace; they deserved their fate, said the city. Gracia found this blame unfair. Maes made no argument.

The hallway Gracia entered was full of soldiers and officers. She knew Hughes' office, having talked to him there a few times (the majority of her visits found him either absent or too busy). But she passed it by. A few questions led to the office of General Lalacon, her true objective. She was the person Gracia needed to learn about Hughes (since Roy was no longer around; not that she would bother asking him).

She came to a desk with a male officer. "I wish to see General Lalacon."

The secretary lurched his bored eyes at her with disdain. "The General won't be able to..."

"Correction, Sparky," a familiar voice entered. The owner appeared postured and unyielding. "I will be seeing Miss Stern. We wish not to be disturbed."

The man nodded heavily, cringing as well. Gracia realized Sparky was not a likeable name. She followed the woman to her office. And a rather large, decorated office it was! Lalacon avoided her desk, instead going to a nearby sofa. High office perks, she described.

Gracia had a bad feeling about this.

The General served some tea, gesturing for invitation. Gracia anxiously accepted a cup.

"Ready to throw your anti-war spiel on me?" Erin was nonchalant pouring the tea.

Gracia made a crooked smile.

Lalacon leaned back, above any attack. But even her face showed some wear. "It's too late to say I had nothing to do with 'Cleaning Day.' What matters is that I could have done something. We have our mistakes, and we learn from them...if only we stopped making mistakes..."

The sadness hit through Gracia's ideas. 'Cleaning Day' was such a tragedy, but the cause for her frustration was becoming ephemeral. So she can't blame the soldiers. So she can't condemn the ones in command. Who is responsible?

Erin kept her casual air. "At any rate, the softness on your face tells me your visit is not on events but people...like one of my officers?"

Gracia revealed her experiences with an unusual air. She couldn't tell Rizzie or any of her friends about the truth. But she was telling Lalacon! The elder didn't receive some of her words seriously. "Hughes got a dark side? It's the end of the world alright."

Gracia gave her silence. Erin rolled her eyes. "Can't you take humor?"

"I've misplaced my humor these days," Gracia coldly explained.

The older woman took on the gravity of the situation. "That does explain his wish to be charged for killing a civilian. The higher ups have forbidden any charges on military."

Again Gracia found confusion on how to take this news.

"Well, I suspected Hughes had problems, but I didn't know it was to this degree."

"So you weren't among the officers who patted him on the back on a job well done?" Gracia dryly asked.

Lalacon emitted a dark stance while sipping her tea. "For the record: No. That seems to be the problem nowadays. Soldiers like me are part of a dying breed."

Gracia had to trudge carefully. She had not given much detail to what Hughes almost did to her. "Every time I get deep, he keeps closing up with the happy face."

The General nodded.

"Why is he like this?"

"Men are usually like this, dear," The General was cool and experienced. "Sensitivity isn't macho. Instead it's hide your feelings, be all tough."

"Strength over kindness," As Gracia made that remark, she had a reflection. "Some women are like that as well."

"Of course, Hughes is a weird case, so he has to have special problems to go with it."

Gracia remembered some clues. "Was it his childhood? His mother's…"

"Don't blame Alicia on this one," Lalacon interrupted with the bite of a crocodile. This mood swung to other things. "Joshua Hughes was a good man, if a boring one," She spoke grudgingly. "Being the only parent, he was pretty demanding."

Gracia was unsettled.

"I remember when I first met Maes," the elder woman remembered. "He had been climbing a tree. Very difficult, being the bloat he was back then. Naturally, he hit the ground. Nothing broken, but he got this long gash on his arm. He didn't cry about it. Rather, he was more freaked out that his father might find out. 'Please don't tell my dad!' he pleaded. From his father, the kid hid his wound, acting like nothing was wrong." Some disapproval came to her view. "That always bothered me. When I was a child, if I cut my finger, I'd make a scene and be proud of it!"

"But his father had the heart condition," Gracia remembered, her mind coming to fruitful speculation.

Lalacon nodded. "It was a burden. Anything bad. There goes the heart! Hughes never wanted to hurt or disappoint his father. So he always acted happy."

Gracia saddened. "Children do everything for their father's love."

"Only Hughes didn't do it just for the old man." Lalacon became grimmer. "For a decade he's hid his feelings with a happy face. It's come to a point where it's the mask he knows and not himself. And the true self might be very different."

Gracia didn't imagine.

"And then he did some things that pleased no one," the woman turned cold. "Must have been terrifying for him."

Gracia still refused detail. Instead she denied the worst point. "But this means Maes Hughes is a total lie. I don't believe that."

Lalacon raised a palm. "Let's not get carried away! We can confirm that Hughes has a lot of genuine heart. But he's no different from any normal person with troubles. It's just he doesn't express negativity like most people."

"Yes," Gracia sighed. "It's frustrating to see him like this."

Lalacon cast a suspicious eye. "So he hasn't avoided you at all?"

"No, but that doesn't mean anything. He still tries to hide with the smile."

Lalacon was unmoved. "So there are times he didn't hide? Actually let his lips down, so to speak."

Getting past the double entendre, Gracia slowly nodded.

Lalacon hummed with insight. "It appears you may be a lot closer to him than you realize! For all the hesitance, he's comfortable with you."

"Yes, but it's still difficult…"

"You're expecting progress overnight. Wait and see. He'll come through."

Gracia tried to accept this advice.

Lalacon's lips curved. "You do care about him."

"What do you mean about that?" Gracia found herself all defensive.

Lalacon's reply was calmer. "I meant as a friend." She sipped more tea.

"Oh." Gracia flustered. "Of course I do. Whatever bothers Maes bothers me as well."

"And Hughes sees that. Right now he's trying to get his act back together and doesn't want to worry you. But he's assured that if he falls, you won't abandon him. So stop with the 'I can't help him!' nonsense. You already have."

* * *

Gracia left the office with a lot on her mind. You know yourself by your friends. Already she knew Hughes the sad clown with the happy face. Like Glacier, the cold nurse with a warmer heart. Now the similarities grew. They were both victims of their father's expectations. Prisoners of condition and appeasement. Only Maes had the prison rule him. She already knew Hughes had a lot to hide; she didn't realize how much. But she still believed in him. No matter his past deed, or his closed nature, the man can be a better person.

And Gracia considered, can she do the same?

"Gracia!"

The cry stopped the woman's own thoughts. There came her 'mirror.'

"Came to see me?" Maes was chipper.

"You wish," Gracia spoke in jest.

The two walked to his office. Maes received a letter. He read the envelope. With a snort of the nose, he opened it. No letter. Only a white feather.

"A feather? I don't understand," Gracia asked.

Hughes was nonchalant. "It's a symbol of cowardice." He entered his desk. "I'll add this to the collection."

"You've gotten more?"

A drawer full of plumage answered that question.

"What can I say? High marks. In the top class. Good leadership skills. Excellent in hand-to-hand combat. Great with a push-knife. So, everyone asks: _Why aren't I over there?_" He pointed to the direction of Ishbal.

"Those jerks!" Gracia felt revulsion for these men. They think he has been living some cushy life? But she wasn't the soldier here.

"What's a guy to do?" Maes asked.

Gracia wavered on her next query. "So, do you regret staying behind?"

"Now there's a question!" Despite his willfulness, the answer seemed hard to Maes. "Yeah, it was hard not going after Roy. I was very patriotic back then. But there were reasons why I didn't go. Emphasis on the _were_." He removed his glasses and cleaned them. "But one reason still stands rock solid."

Gracia saw those lime eyes flash upon her. Her unease vanished into comfort. A little too comfortable, she realized. Time to change the subject now! "You miss him."

Spectacled again, Hughes danced upon the issue. "The apartment's gotten a little empty. Oh, I bet he's handling it well. Much better than me."

Gracia patted Maes' shoulder. Roy was probably another person he felt comfortable letting his lips down. Okay, that thought was weird.

"So, got a pie for me?"

"I'll make you one tomorrow!"

"Oh goody!" Hughes rotated on his seat.

* * *

_Where did she put that hat?_

Gracia found that question lined with idiocy. She knew exactly where she left it.

She took her attention to the lonely house. Father was out of town again. His departures were never easy, or warm. Oh well. The house was left to her own devices. Going out didn't seem right; the weather was worsening as night fell.

There came a knocking at the door. Did Dad come back?

Gracia paused through the door she opened. Maes Hughes stood before her. That wouldn't be such a strong statement if not for the fact he was here for the first time.

Maes slowly revealed his reason. "You left your hat at the office," He looked like he wanted more.

So did Gracia, even as the hat now came to her hands. But the hat wasn't supposed to serve _this_ purpose. He wasn't supposed to come here! Nevertheless, the woman was hospitable. "Would you like to come in?"

Hughes made his usual glee expression. "Don't mind if I do." He swaggered around the place. "Nice abode."

"Well, Dad's a successful man." Gracia was nervous, constantly feeling the room as pins and needles. It's just a man in the house!

"Nothing like the outside." Hughes commented.

"You've been around here before?"

"Yes…" Maes slowed his reply. "Like a hundred times."

Gracia threw a stare.

With shoulders shrugged upwards, Hughes bore his face of shame. "I guess that might count as stalking."

"Oh yes," Gracia was straight.

"But I'm in here for the first time." Hughes cheerfully saved face. "And you invited me. Both count for something, right? Oh, looky here!" Hughes changed the subject, running to the table of pictures. "Is that your old man?"

"Yes."

"I haven't met the guy."

No surprise, Gracia thought. She had kept Maes from her family life. She had done the same thing to her father. She had never mentioned Maes once to him. That day will come.

Maes was yapping away. "I dunno. I get the impression that he's this cold man."  
"Well your impression is wrong." Gracia blasted at his presumption.

"Sorry. You've lived with him," Maes apologized. "You know him best."

"Yes," Gracia's answer was uncertain. And its truth wasn't reassuring. The discomfort wanted her to desist talking about it. "And your father?"

"He was a nice guy. Kind and good." Maes set a kind profile, looking at his thoughts. "He loved my mother. You'd think he'd hold a grudge after losing her, but he never held it against me. That weak heart of his..." he snickered with the pathos. "He used it so much."

Gracia did not wince.

"Not that there was no trouble. He wanted me to be a good man for my mother's sake. And I think I did that well…back then." He wavered on his comments. "But I wanted to join soldier school and help Roy. Dad refused. A no-win scenario there! A guy has to leave the nest sooner or later, even against his dad's wishes."

"But I'm sure he was still proud of you," Gracia said.

Hughes seemed open. "I've been thinking about that recently." He turned to another picture. "And that's your mom, right?"

"Um, that's my aunt." Gracia corrected. "She's my mom's twin sister." She then revealed a photograph of the real thing.

"Cool! You've got a living reminder of your mother."

Gracia was enriched at this remark, until she realized her friend's plight.

"Pretty lady. You inherited a lot from her."

Gracia waxed in the flattery.

A crack of lightning sounded from outside. The windows turned foggy. Rain and wind combined to make an inhospitable atmosphere outside. A similar storm of disorder filled Gracia. "You can stay here…for the night."

Hughes stared wide-eyed. "I don't want to intrude…"

"It's okay. I mean you helped me several times."

"Really, I shouldn't…" Hughes chaffed on the modesty. "What'll the neighbors say?" He walked to the hall. "I see the attic has a window," he smirked.

This miscast question hit the wrong note in Gracia. "Oh, you're not thinking..." Her refusal came too late, for Hughes was out of the house. Into the blurry rain he vanished. She accepted it with a sigh. She went up all the stairs. In the top floor ceiling, she opened the attic ladder. The room was dusty and cluttered. She should clean this place up! Before her was the oval-shaped window. Was this all a goose chase? Surely he couldn't climb in this weather?

Lightning flashed a dark figure upon the window. It startled Gracia to back away. Then the 'monster' hung his upside-down head. He waved.

"Maes!" Gracia's relief was not in the angry voice. She opened the window. The man swung from the roof like a monkey. He was through the window. "I knew people would talk if they saw me enter your house and not come out. So I went out, hid, and climbed here."

"Nice thinking…I guess," Gracia could be calm. Excitement danced within her.

The two climbed down the ladder. Hughes shook in his wet clothes. "So, mind if I got out of these?"

"No!" Gracia shouted at the implications. "I mean, take a shower. I'll get you some pajamas." She turned toward the hall. Shamelessly she turned back. Maes was now shirtless, beginning to unbuckle his pants. Nice shoulder blades. She flinched back to the closet, which a stack of green pajamas. When she returned, Maes was gone, leaving a trail of wet clothes. She picked them up, the red shirt, the black coat and pants. The shoes. The white boxer shorts. That last piece of clothing required a slow grasp. Its message leaped in her head.

The shower stopped. Gracia dropped the pajamas at the door and ran to her room. The way her nerves are...

A knock at the door battered said nerves even more. Gracia darted down the stairs to the door, making silent prayers on the caller's identity. The person, though not the worst feared, was not the best either. "Aunt Anya," Gracia called her name. "What are you doing here?"

The older woman walked through the door. "Hearing that your father's off for the weekend, I thought you might need some company."

The kind thought wasn't exactly reciprocated. "Actually, Aunt, I think I can handle things on my own."

"Nonsense!" The lady strode up the stairs. "What my brother-in-law doesn't know won't hurt him."

"No!…I mean, I am twenty-two. I don't need a babysitter."

Anya cast a suspicious look. "Ok-ay. I guess if you…" She was about to change directions on the steps when a man in a towel appeared at the top steps.

"Hey Gracia! Where's the pajamas?" Maes came in all his naked muscled glory, limited only by the towel around him. His curiosity quickly broke.

Everyone became statues. Hughes was the first to move. "Uh, hiya!" He waved.

"Aunt Anya," Gracia got into the act. "This is Captain Maes Hughes." She felt like burying herself someplace where no one can find her.

"I've heard about you." The unclad guest nonchalantly walked over to the woman and kissed her hand.

And now Gracia had glares from Anya. Her lips heaved the words. "You tramp..."

"Hey!" Maes protested. "Gracia's as chaste as I am…and that didn't come out right."

Gracia sighed. Not out of hurt. She didn't care what her aunt called her. That word was not an insult in Anya's view. "It's not like that at all!"

Aunt Anya returned her vigil to the male guest. "Shame. Shape of things to come, eh?"

Hide and never get out, cried Gracia's inner self.

A wicked smile approached Anya's lips. "Well, you're right," she eyed the man like a piece of meat. "He is something." Her fingers twitched for contact.

Gracia did a forced smile. She caught eyes with Maes, who wiped his disheveled hair. Stop doing sexy things!

"I am here for the most innocent of motives," Maes added.

"Sure you are," Anya was resolved to her view.

"He's just staying for the night because of the weather," Gracia added.

"The sky's clear now." Anya destroyed that excuse. But she understood; in her own way, that is. "Your secret's safe with me. I'll leave you two to your sleep." She devilishly grinned. "Don't stay up all night." She went down the stairs with a light retreat.

And then Maes clapped his hands. "Well, I've plunged your reputation down the drain…" he humored the fact. "I think I should leave now."

There came a loud cry. "Allow that, Gracia, and I'll never forgive you!" With that, Anya was gone with the slamming door.

Gracia kept to her own reserves of dignity. "It's okay. Aunt Anya knows better." She rubbed her forehead, sounding almost cross. "Didn't you see the pajamas?" She walked to the bathroom, picked up the stack and gave them to Maes. "Now change before someone else drops by." She took all the wet clothes to her room and closed the door.

"Gracia?"

"Not now! I'm changing!" Gracia acted on the defensive. Please let there be no more visitors tonight! Like her father...

She quickly undressed. The door was shut tight. Her closet showed her choice of nightly garb. A sleeveless nightgown or purple pajamas. Rattled, Gracia chose the safer outfit. Now changed for bed, she opened the door. Maes looked good in the green wardrobe. According to his eyes, admiration was shared.

"Do you want me to sleep in that bedroom?" Maes pointed to her father's room.

"Not there. In here! With me."

Maes grinned. Gracia's glare ended that one.

"I didn't mean it like that." He pleaded innocence. "No nudity. No touchy. Okay?"

"Relax," Gracia assured. "I believe you." She then grabbed a sheet and laid it on the floor, with a pillow added. "You first."

Maes playfully saluted her, getting into the makeshift bed. He pulled the blanket up to his neck, like a child. He removed his glasses. "Can mommy give me a kiss goodnight?"

His face got another pillow. Gracia hid her mirth with a disapproving face, turning it away whenever a smirk appeared. She too got into bed. The lamp went off. It was all darkness, but hardly silent. They talked. About the neighborhood, Aunt Anya, etc.

"Slumber party's are fun!" Hughes chortled.

"Bet you were the popular one."

The first act of Maes' reply was silence. "I lived in a quiet town. Didn't have many friends. Too busy being loads of fun to the other boys."

Gracia understood. "I'm sorry."

"I remember when Roy first came. He lost both his parents, and Dad thought he should stay with us. I really wanted a friend."

Roy's image deterred Gracia. "Bet it wasn't easy."

"Winner. Roy was completely anti-social. But I wore him down with kindness. Dad said I had to be kind. If I was kind people would like me."

And they won't if you did a bad thing? Gracia kept that statement in thought only. That made an already sad situation even worse. Tears grew in her eyes, but her voice was calm. "And they do like you."

There came a quiet. Such a silence it was wondered if she was alone. Was he asleep?

"Gracia?"

"Yes?"

"My dad beat me."

Gracia sat right up, turning on the lamp.

Maes protested. "Once, Gracia. _Once_. Dad was not abusive. I'm not sugarcoating things in some desperate need to justify a nasty childhood."

In belief, Gracia lay back down on the bed.

"I made a temper tantrum and broke a window. He whacked my bottom a couple times."

"Ouch," Gracia cried. She was never punished like that.

"But the worst part was believing that my dad hated me. That because I was bad he didn't love me anymore." He looked very vulnerable, fingering his moistening eyes. "I went to bed, crying like a baby. I was about to fall asleep, when Dad came in. I cringed, afraid he'd yell at me. What I got was a hug."

Gracia felt better.

"He was the one apologizing! Making my butt shine was the only punishment. No hard feelings afterwards. Dad said I was the important thing in his life. I…forgot about that day. I was so glad Dad didn't hate me that I blanked it out of my mind. But these weeks brought the memory back."

Gracia arose. This is probably what Maes needed. "See! Your father loved you even at your worst."

And Maes looked at her with a growing smile. "And you didn't hate me after seeing my worst." He bowed his head. "That meant a lot to me."

The words gave a peace to Gracia. Not to mention an overflow of emotions that bordered on embarrassment! "Good night!" Darkness swiftly returned.

* * *

The woman would wake several times. But Maes remained quiet. Gracia liked it. His handsome face, glasses free, in peace.

And at the door she saw her father. Frowning...

Gracia really woke up. Hughes stood before her. Fully dressed and disappointed. "Sorry if I woke you."

"No…it's okay." Gracia fought sleep for awareness. "What time is it?"

"Early," Maes peered at the brightening window. "Don't want anyone to see me. Is the attic window locked?"

"No," Gracia answered, intelligence emerging. "What?"

"The house roofs are connected, so I can make a getaway." He walked out of the bedroom, with Gracia following. She lumbered to the attic, wondering if she was still sleeping.

As Maes came near the window, Gracia summoned some courage. "You can…come back…if you like."

Hughes looked insecure. He closed his eyes, as if troubled by some decision. "I'm sorry, Gracia." He confronted her seriously, without whimsy or angst.

"Wha?" Gracia's lips instantly met his own. She awoke to that! Time lost all meaning.

Maes retreated. "Sorry." He waved goodbye and instantly moved through the window and above the roof. He quickly disappeared.

Gracia just stood there for minutes passing. Confused. She felt something. Then she thought something. He made a pass on her! How dare he take advantage of her! Who does Maes think he is?

But then came another condemnation. How dare she just stand here and let him get away with it!

Gracia ran down the stairs. That man…

_("Frowning for something?...Call me Maes.")_

While still in pajamas, Gracia grabbed a coat and boots, and charged out of the house.

("In need of a companion, Glacier?")

The streets were wet. Gracia felt wetness upon her as well. But she ran regardless in this soggy morning hour. Resolve pulled and pushed her, all fears noticed but impotent. Nothing stopped her.

_("I liked your happy face.")_

She turned corners of the street.

_("Goodbye Miss Stern."/"__**Please, call me Gracia!"**__) _

The station was coming near. Almost there! She saw engine smoke.

_("But I think I found something good in this bad thing...From it, I see you're a very caring person...The rumors don't fit you at all. You're all heart, Gracia.")_

On the dock, she looked on the train, half-covered by smoke. He could be anywhere.

The whistle threw its deafening sound.

_("I'm in love with you."/__**"I don't want this, Maes. I don't know if I can believe you…I just don't have time for someone."**__)_

Gracia looked this and that for any sign of him, nothing so far. Damn that man!

**(**_**"I just…I don't really want to miss you. Can we at least be friends? Okay?"/**__"Okay!")_

The train began to move. Her search became more frantic. It led to the spotting of a window. A chiseled profile came from it.

_("As your ambassador to the male world, I want to prove myself to you. Show you the truth...As your friend. Can you trust me?")_

"Maes!" Gracia cried.

The man saw her. He was all over the window. Gracia cried out words. A loud whistle overwhelmed it. The train moved. Hughes remained at his spot. Gracia cried out again in the noise. Smoke blocked her sight. She could only hear the train depart.

Defeat and uncertainty reveled in the woman. Did he get the message? Perhaps it was better he didn't.

_("How can you talk to a guy after that?"/__**"I don't think I could."**__)_

But the train's passage only gave her disappointment in the end. And a figure tore thru the mist. Maes Hughes, dirty but postured.

The relief ended. The implications stunned Gracia as he came closer.

(_**"Y-You killed someone?"/**__"Yep. Not my first though.")_

"You'll be late for work," Gracia pleaded.

"Yeah, and it's raining too," Maes disregarded things. "Both can wait." He had that serious face again. His eyes pierced intensely. His determined voice demanded truth. "Was my lip-reading off?"

And now two people stood close to each other, avoidance definitely no option. Both their faces suffered an extravaganza of whatever their hearts emitted. Particularly Gracia. Was she making a mistake?

_("Mercy and redemption seem so distant to me now...Guess I'm gonna have to do a lot of running!")_­

"Tell me, Gracia."

Gracia's courage resumed itself. Calmly she looked at Maes, giving him a strong smile. "Read my lips."

* * *

To be continued

Next time: Maes and Gracia enjoy first love…but the rocky road still lies ahead!


	9. A Rocky Start

The Woman He Loved

Chapter 9: A Rocky Start

By Claudius

This story possesses some suggestive content. Tasteful with NOTHING explicitly detailed in a NC-17 vein.

* * *

It rained. Gracia barely noticed. She was sitting on a bench, right? And she felt a little wet. Oh well, who cared? She resumed attention to her hands. They were bonded in warmth with the hands of Maes. They weren't the only rich contact she had with him. Her emerald eyes peered at his lime-green eyes with a soulful connection. And most pleasant of all was Maes' lips touching her own. Her first kisses in the realms of romance. Whatever inexperience she felt barely mattered with such confidence.

Maes lovingly embraced her. "So long, so many months wasted." He regretted. His voice lacked the whim and joy of his usual behavior. But the tone was blessed with soul. It was a beautiful voice so often hidden by the laughter.

"I know," Gracia apologized. "I knew it. I loved you for the longest time...but I refused the truth. I thought I doubted you."

Hughes nodded. "I gave you good reason."

"No. In truth, I doubted myself. Why would you want someone like me? That was the real question that dominated every feeling, every kindness you gave me. I thought it was all a trick, so I rejected you."

"Again, I gave you good reason."

"Enough with the self-pity," She touched his stubbled cheeks. "I know what is true now."

"You were always the only girl for me," Maes spoke. "No one can hold a candle to you." Hughes was very strong yet humble. "Besides, I'd make a poor trophy husband to any other girl. No one but you would want what comes with the pretty package."

Gracia didn't answer to his wounds. Instead she healed him with a kiss.

"No matter how bad I believed myself to be, you stuck by me, Gracia." His grasp tightened. "Like an angel, you pulled me out of hell."

"You could pull yourself out," Gracia rejected the compliment.

"I needed a little evidence that I could."

Gracia beheld his kiss again. So wonderful to be together! Then they remembered the rain before them. And crowds of people were watching their romance. They shirked any inadequacy. Let them enjoy the show!

Maes bowed his head in nervous realization. "So what now? I'm new at this phase."

"Well," Gracia coyly answered. "You ask me out for a date."

"Oh yeah, forgot about that." He rubbed his back. "Love makes one lose objectivity." He stood up, back into the intense rain. The splashes upon his body did little to overwhelm the sincerity of his act. "Want to go out on a date?"

"I consent," Gracia acted ladylike.

Maes sat back down, resuming their hand-bond and kissing.

"How long until the next train?" Gracia asked.

"An hour, fortunately."

* * *

Through Maes' help, Gracia was able to get back home. And then they parted. The separation had an impact to the lone girlfriend. They were no longer together now! But not for long, Gracia indulged in hope. Her renewed awareness brought her to the soaked clothes. Oh well, she was going on a date!

Awareness lost it tone again. Gracia's feelings sent her into a mad dance of physical and mental proportions. Right now she was lighter than air, heavy as a rock, lovely as a dove, terrible as a wolf. Overall happy! Anything was possible today, for they were a couple now. Let all Amestris know: Maes Hughes and Gracia Stern are in love! She is Captain Maes Hughes' girlfriend. He is Nurse Gracia Stern's boyfriend. Now the announcement was made, what now? There had to be some thinking done on this relationship. Gracia was not ignorant to coupling. Aunt Anya and her friends told her a lot. Funny, it would be like the previous engagements she had with Maes; dating in all but name. How things change; how things stay the same.

But the difference will come later. Gracia peered to the logical future. The increase of intimacy will lead to the next step. It gave her sudden pause. She and Maes would have sexual relations! But they hardly met...for almost two years. Okay, correction. Barely started being boyfriend and girlfriend for two hours. The future became an excitement both good and ill. Gracia looked at the mirror. Her enchanting beauty was okay, but her body! She touched her breasts, shuddering at the sensation. Now the insecurity that was absent since she walked out the house this morning returned! Was she beautiful enough? Could she be sexy enough to stimulate her man?

Hold it, Gracia calmed against the rising uncertainties. Sex can wait after they get married. That solace was anything but. Marriage, another step! She remembered Rizzie's fate; emotions can create a trap. Sure, Maes really, really was a good man, but having a third 'really' was needed. Oh, but she could delay marriage for years until that assurance came. But should she uphold the chastity too? Suppose the marriage never happened? She might break up with Maes before she knew (and enjoyed) him in the physical way. Virginity was not something to sustain. Gracia wasn't that much a good girl!

Quickly her thoughts beckoned to the consequences of sex. Disease. Poor Ally was also not far from her thoughts. And then there was pregnancy…a child. That path eased her mood. The orphans. Gran. Gracia rubbed her flat stomach. Presently empty, fortunately, but what if one day it held a child? Maybe a girl? That was okay. Of course, Gracia preferred childbirth in wedlock, as in married, as in becoming a wife, as in becoming Mrs. Maes Hughes.

Gracia shook her head to make sense of all this disorder. Put that all in the future. For right now, she had a date tomorrow.

And she sneezed.

* * *

The next day passed long. Eventually, work's conclusion saw Gracia tiredly entering the locker room. The shift was a burden, not only because of the upcoming event.

At least it was over. Gracia peered around the room. Please don't be empty, she prayed. She looked around. To her comfort, another nurse was here. She didn't want to be alone in the hospital.

After a cough, Gracia opened her locker door. She pulled out a nice green gown. Not hers. She borrowed it from a colleague; in exchange, Gracia will take over her shift next week. She faltered against the locker. The room shook a little. An earthquake? She walked to the door. No panic outside. It was of her delusion. She coughed.

A date. Again Gracia saw the strange difference between then and now. All her other times with Maes had the components of dating. Looking back, she could call those times _dates_. But they weren't. This time she and Maes would be together as a couple. Dinner by candlelight, dancing, and romance!

Too bad she made these dreams with a pounding headache. It felt like hammers falling upon her head. Why didn't she get enough sleep? At least she was standing. That meant she was okay. No pain, just discomfort. In a few hours she and Maes will have romance and excitement. This sustained her throughout her present condition. Neither suspicion, nor dark secrets or weather could stop her from being with Hughes tonight. Certainly not some dizzy spell!

Gracia put on her make-up. Good. She walked without a misstep. Fine. She went outside the main doors. No problem. And then she spotted Maes! Déjà vu was playing its game. From the bottom step, he looked really good. Black suit, gray vest, and white shirt. This time his collar was closed and wrapped with a red tie. With sparkling eyes and a sly smile, he revealed a bouquet. "Ready when you are!"

Gracia was stunned. Maes, this moment, the night, all combined to a beautiful effect. It was like being in another world. Another consciousness…

"Gracia!"

* * *

The next thing Gracia saw was Maes watching over her. She tried to become aware of her surroundings. Was she in a bed? Probably, since she felt this terrible weakness. She ignored her limitations and tried to sit back up. "W-What time is it?"

Hughes tiredly looked at a clock. His jaw had acquired a dark shade. "8 o'clock…in the morning."

"Eight o'clock!" Gracia was shocked enough to rise.

"Actually seven after eight," Maes corrected. "Save your strength."

The truth tensed Gracia on the disorder she had brought. She intentionally lost her balance to a nice pillow.

Her forehead felt Maes' warm hand. "The fever's broken," He answered with a serious flair. It eased with relief. "We've got to stop meeting like this, Gracia," He shook his head in disapproval. "It isn't healthy."

Gracia wanted to know. "I remembered you handed me a bouquet."

"And then you fainted."

Gracia became assured of this fault. It was true. "I'm sorry," She lowered herself into a depth of embarrassment. "I must have caught it that morning at the station. I was already feeling ill. But I didn't want to cancel."

Hughes waved his palm in protest. "It's okay. I should have gotten you a cab that day." He tiredly rubbed his forehead. "We're starting this new life together, Gracia. No point killing ourselves in the process." His humor did little to ebb Gracia's disappointment. But it helped. "At least we saw each other. I dare say it was pretty romantic."

Indeed, the idea of Maes looking after her struck a comfortable tone with Gracia. "I hope I didn't speak tortured thoughts in my sleep."

"Not a word," Maes smiled.

Gracia glared at him.

"Honest!" The man cried, kissing her forehead.

* * *

Once perfect health returned, Gracia and Maes finally made do with the romance. Their jobs made time short, but what they got was wonderful. The places they went- A small diner at a café, a night at the theatre, or a visit to a museum, picnics in the park- received a special light with their presence. Now that she was honest with herself, Gracia could welcome love for good and ill. Therefore she got the happiness in mind and body. Hughes' touch moved her. His presence could lift any dour mood.

True, there was a fear that throwing herself into this romance had great consequences. Yes, any moment now a break-up will come. But youth can be forgiven for such wild steps. Genuinely, Gracia felt no strong qualms or opposition within herself. Rather, the problems came outside. And there was one person that signified that opposition. She had to tell father. It was okay to be silent about Maes when he was just her friend. Well, that changed now! Gracia pressed against the inevitable. Whether father liked it or not, he had to know. And a better way to do that would not be at home. Her father would be making a lecture at a nearby college.

And that night came. She and Maes attended the lecture. Was Gracia a jumble of nerves on this event? Accurate. "How do I look?" She spoke to her boyfriend with a snap.

"Pretty as a picture," Maes was flattering with limitations. "You've pestered me enough about my look."

Gracia grumbled at the snide remark. She demanded much from her boyfriend tonight. Maes had to be at his best, or at his most socially acceptable best. No loud shirts. No open collar. No jokes. Not even an easygoing swagger. Regret for any shrewness on her part will have to be dealt with later.

The lecture was crowded already, forcing them to the back. "You can still wave to daddy," Her boyfriend joked. Gracia glared him into silence. She thought about this setback. Well, it was bound to happen.

And then the man entered the stage with applause. Her father carefully planted his papers on the podium. Then he looked to the audience, above them all like some god. He went into his lecture. It was a long haul for two hours. Gracia looked to see Maes faring well. She feared him sleeping in boredom. But he was transfixed, gesturing with his chin, eyes interested. "He's good." He whispered.

Gracia blushed. She was no stranger to her father's words. He looked very emotional to his beliefs, presenting them with a real humanity. More than he showed at home.

The end came with thunderous applause. Gracia was proud of her father. She saw Maes clap enthusiastically. She got the boyfriend's approval.

And the audience arose and swarmed. Gracia moved forward. The path opened to her as if she were in a bubble. Okay, a very small bubble, but she was making progress. She turned to see Maes close behind her, swaying and turning passed the narrow path. And there was her father off the stage. Men were greeting him, shaking his hands, speaking congratulations.  
"Dad?"

The man turned to her with his usual temperature of personality. "Gracia. What brings you here?"

"It's not everyday you have a lecture here," she spoke in fine endeavor. And then Maes came over. Here goes nothing. "Um, father…"

Unfortunately, father was losing attention. "I was invited to dinner by Professor Eichler." He coldly admitted. "Do not wait up for me."

The moment escaping her, Gracia vocally pounced for attention. "Dad, this is my boyfriend, Captain Maes Hughes!"

"Hiya!" Maes yelled.

That got the father's attention. His face turned heavy. His eyes peered at what was next to her. Then his glare moved away like a knife slashing away. Mr. Stern was gone within the shouting crowd. Gracia felt the cut and then a haze. It was like medication from pain. She made the opposite direction, forgetting her boyfriend, whom she bumped into. She spoke nothing, thinking everything.

"C'mon, it's way too stuffy in here," Maes advised kindly.

It took being outside for any words to be exchanged. Maes strode down the building step, hands in pockets. "Well, that went well."

Gracia finally reacted to the hurt. "Spare me the sarcasm, Maes!" She snapped. "I know what you think of my father. That he's a cold man who probably doesn't care his only child exists. Well, he doesn't feel. He thinks. He learns. If he isn't the warmest, at least he's the smartest."

Hughes was taken aback. His eyebrows heightened, his mouth small. "You said it, not me."

Gracia hit the silence again. The fault was not in the man standing before her. "I'm sorry. I forced you into this. Making you into someone you're not."

"Hello, identity crisis, remember?" Maes sighed.

"Yes," the woman lowered her voice. "I wasn't helping."

Maes took an understanding but stern demeanor. "Look, Gracia. He's your father. When it all comes down to it, he is your father. At least you still have one, not to mention having a mom too. Nothing is completely negative, remember?"

Gracia sighed. She hated Maes making the best of things.

That quickly changed. "On the other hand, no one likes to be insulted." Maes had its own knife. "And if your father isn't willing to make some time to meet his only child's boyfriend, well what can you take from that?"

Gracia wanted to say something. Or shout. But these words humbled her into silence.

"Um, sorry." Maes cringed.

Gracia shook her head in resolve. She wrapped upon her boyfriend's arm.

This gave Maes assurance. He pulled the tie off his collar and opened it. "Well, I have my own rendezvous with someone."

"Oh, who with?" Gracia was coy.

"Oh, some pretty girl."

And the two strolled together into the night.

* * *

Gracia awoke to the morning in a finer mood. Her father was eating his breakfast.

"How was the intellectual sparring?" Gracia greeted her father. Humor given and not received, she sat down and ate. Getting nothing but silence, she got to the point. "I have been dating Maes Hughes. He's a captain rising in the ranks. He's funny, kind, and smart. He's a good man."

Her father made a slight scowl. He nodded with his own understanding. "So are you going to marry him?"

"Marry?" Gracia reacted. "Not right now. We just started dating."

Her father resumed eating. That gave Gracia some wonder of his intentions. She started eating again, showing her resolve. She was about to swallow a sausage when her ears heard him speak again. "I believed you were of better character."

Gracia lay the fork down. "I am of better character, father." She froze in thought. Did he actually think she had better character?

"This relationship doesn't sound smart." Her father shot her with his doubts.

"I'm handling it, dad," Gracia bore no doubt.

Father was not deterred. "Wait until he breaks your heart." He arose, walking out of the table.

Gracia remained. She wanted to scream at the man. And then she realized this was the first time she entered a strong argument with her father. And it was least wanted. She knew about disapproving fathers who persuaded their children to reject their loves. The defiant ones had their fathers reject them.

Gracia disregarded such choices. She will never come to it.

* * *

Later that day, Gracia went to visit Maes. No basket of pie she had under her arm, nor did her head have an important reason. Being a couple meant no more excuses to see each other. She was almost to his street when she spotted Maes in the distance. He walked beside a young woman.

Gracia studied this woman with discomfort. She was beautiful. Long raven-black hair, smooth skin, a gentle nose and chin. Maes' addition made them a beautiful couple, a perfect match. Except for the fact that the man was already spoken for.

Unseen, Gracia focused on them. The girl spoke something. Maes laughed. His movements were weightless and free of any burden. He looked like a man in love…

This pleasant sight sent Gracia against the wall. Her heart felt squeezed. Her thoughts opened to any possibility. Did his busy schedule include activities like this? How dare that man…

Then a cage imprisoned her fears. Gracia asserted herself and her faith. Too much time had been wasted by her suspicions and insecurities. She will trust the man she loved. Of course, that meant getting to the bottom of this mystery. So Gracia followed them down the street. They stopped.

Gracia turned around. There was a person at a table. "Oh hello, there!" she gingerly spoke to the person. "Mind if I sit down?"

"S-Sure." The person, a boy of seventeen, nervously agreed to this prospect.

She sat down.

"Uh, this is the first time I ever had a woman sit next to me," the boy summoned his courage. "Except my mom."

Gracia was not really interested. She turned to see her objectives leaving again. "Goodbye!" She arose and left. She combed the streets. And one alley presented her prey. This alley had the back of a building, a sort of house that made her wary. She went closer and confirmed it. They went into a bordello! Gracia's mind stormed about this place. Where women sold their bodies for money! Where customers were of the married kind (and the boyfriends)!

Gracia came closer to this alley. There was a backdoor. A big man guarded it. How to get through him?

A young man came to the guard. His plight in entry was not good. For Gracia, it might be good. She snuck against the wall, slowly, quietly. She saw the two men fight, attention away from her and the door. Entry became successful.

The hallway was empty, but not for long. Gracia hid behind a clothing line. And what a line! The clothes were bright, flashy, and scanty. She studied the risqué wardrobe. There was a blonde wig. There hung a red garment that looked like a bathing suit. A dirty feeling came over her. Not disgusting, but naughty. She put it on. Rather tight. It exposed her cleavage, squeezing her breasts to a bigger state. That wasn't exactly insulting.

Gracia had her disguise now. Putting a robe around herself, she came out of the hiding place. The dress and wig proved her equally noticeable yet unrecognizable. Hopefully no one will oppose the unfamiliarity part. And if someone did, she'll retaliate with 'What are you doing here?'

Some employees walked by. Gracia saw a smoked cigarette on an ashtray. She planted it in her mouth. She sucked in. Her mouth threw up the smoke with distaste. Well, this is another vice she'll never try again!

There was Maes Hughes coming from the distance. Gracia turned away, acting all sexy, or what she thought might be sexy. He passed her without bother. She flinched behind his departure. She followed him to a room.

Gracia marched to that door. Her hand hesitated on the doorknob. A fear came in the form of an image in her mind: A bed, with Maes' muscular backside sticking out of the sheets. He lay on top of someone, her slender hands rubbing his back. The laughter, the grunting…

The dreamer returned to her faith. If any woman was going to be ridden by Maes Hughes, her name is Gracia Stern. She grabbed the knob and turned. It was locked. Curiosity exploded all calm. She banged on the door.

It opened narrowly. "Yes?" said the inhabitant. Maes.

"Are you lucky?" Gracia spoke icily.

"Not now."

Gracia kicked the door wide open.

"Get out of here…" Hughes' dispassionate warning changed with recognition. "Gracia?" His expression was that of getting socked in the stomach. Closing the door with a mechanical push, he repeated her name dumbfounded. His eyes grew large at her. Gracia wasn't entirely displeased at this inspection.

"Who is that woman?" Gracia pointed to the objective. Not only was the other woman fully dressed, her hair was actually blond. Her raven-black hair was a wig, and another man held it. This man courteously moved close to her.

"Gracia?" The other woman asked in surprise. "Is this _the_ Gracia Stern?"

"Well, this is pretty awkward." Hughes scratched his head, his eyes somewhat lowered on Gracia. "Why are you doing here, and in that?" His tone tried to be angry, but actually sounded confused but interested.

Gracia divided her tone from embarrassment to justification. "It's just that I saw you and her."

Maes exhaled nervously. "It's nothing. There's a lot to explain."

"Did you tell anyone?" The other man rudely made his question.

Gracia shook her head. A different idea of what was going on formed in her mind. It battled against her view of the room. It was a very stylish parlor full of racy images. The walls were drawings of naked people. The bedposts were carved of naked people. The ceiling had a mirror over the bed. And there was a lot of red velvet, from curtains to bed covers.

As Gracia studied the entire place, the woman walked over to her. "Captain Hughes told me so much about you." Her words sounded with envy. "His face glowed at every mention."

Some noise exploded outside the room.

"I hope that's not what I think it is…" Hughes darted to the door. Opening the door an inch brought more concern to his face. "It's a raid!" The couple, as Gracia found herself entitling (to her relief), hugged.

"They're coming up the stairs." Maes shut the door and darted to a closet. He applied pressure to it. A passage opened. "This place is full of secret passages."

"They won't be satisfied," Gracia dampened the success. "They won't stop until they find you." Guilt sprang reparations. Made your bed, sleep in it. It created a stupid idea. Really stupid. "You two go through. Maes and I will stay here."

Maes looked at her strangely. He obeyed. "Go."

"And give me the wig!" Gracia made a plea. It was granted. The couple darted into the passage. Hughes closed it.

"Maes," Gracia asked her boyfriend. "Turn around." Her resolve frightened her.

* * *

This was not what Gracia expected in making a confrontation. All she saw was the red covers over her. Not even the black wig proved more visible. Or what was also touching her.

The only easy thing right now was Maes' explanation. It turned out the other woman was some sheltered rich girl. And the daughter of a Brigadier General to boot! The other man was a lowly soldier in love with her. A real star-crossed romance. And Maes just had to play matchmaker. He offered the lovers a sanctuary, in all places a bordello. "I was in the romantic mood," he explained.

"You should have told me." Gracia fought against the confusion of betrayal, deception, discovery, and guilt that twisted inside her emotions.

"Sorry." He kissed her. "Have you been smoking?"

Gracia heard the door open. Voices stormed to her ears. "I'm Lieutenant Abbott. Nice try, but we know…"

The covers came off. Gracia pulled some of it back to hide her nude breasts. She was naked from the waist up, and no one was going to see that part. She bowed her head lower.

"Well, nice of you guys to barge in." Hughes made a cruel sarcasm. He lay next to Gracia, equally unclad (and more). He wound his arm around her. The touch upon her naked back and shoulders was electrifying.

One of the two men grinned smugly. His partner, Abbott, was straight in his approach. "We had reports you and Miss Cordish came to this house of ill-repute. You're in so much trouble."

Gracia pulled the wig off. She saw no more pride from the investigators.

"That isn't Miss Cordish!" The other officer revealed weakly.

"No duh," Maes put on his glasses, amplifying a mean look. "And she isn't an employee here either."

Abbott straightened himself. "We had information…"

"Which gave you right to interrupt us?" Hughes nodded like a grinning jack-in-the-box. It was not a happy grin.

Gracia covered her face. "I knew this was a bad idea," she whined convincingly. "I'm gonna be known as Hughes' harlot!"

"Don't worry dear, they won't report this," Maes swayed from tender to rough. "Right?" He stormed out of the bed. The chief officer shrugged away. The assistant just stood there, looking less offended. And then he turned to Gracia. "They won't say anything!"

Gracia was more entranced by the frontal image. Not since the physical did she see Maes this naked! She had changed.

Maes angrily grabbed for his clothes. "If any of you drag my girlfriend's reputation through the mud…" He flung a push-knife to the wall. It hit a painting of a naked man, between the legs.

The investigators were taken aback. It didn't last. "Wait a minute!" Abbott was sharp. "Why did you bring that?"

Gracia thought quickly. "It was part of the play. Maes pretended he was an assassin set to kill me. But instead he falls madly in love with me. At first I stroke his knife, and then I fondle his…"

"Enough!" Abbott repeated the words a few times. Hughes turned to her with an equally surprised face. That wasn't the only thing about him affected by this statement.

Abbott noticed that too. "Can't you two do it at home?" He turned away in disgust. His assistant made a full scan of Hughes and with a sigh he followed. The door shut.

The room could be inflated by the strong wind of relief gasps from the two.

"That was close," Gracia rubbed her forehead. "There is a good chance everyone will think I'm a loose woman now."

"Yeah." Maes was fascinated. "What goes on in that head of yours? Planning something?"

"I-I had to think of something."

Maes laughed. "That kind of thinking will kill your frigid reputation." His mirth melted, lessening as his stare intensified. He looked hungry.

Gracia's confusion lasted for one second. As usual, Maes' unclad form reminded her of the museum statues she saw as a child. The naked, male statues that brought out weird feelings. Feelings, demands, to touch and eat...

Maes dropped his glasses on the bed. Gracia saw him kneel before her and kissed her strongly. And Gracia responded. His hands slid on her shoulders, trembling with each caress. Her lips smeared upon his shoulders and chest. Her fingers rubbed down his solid pectorals, bumping down his abs, getting lower to…up to the shoulder blades. She tilted back to the bed. Her stomach felt cold metal from his dog tag. And then the mirror on the ceiling came to her view. Gracia saw her arms rubbing Maes' muscular backside. Each face kissed the other's neck. She surrendered to ravenous thought. More!

Maes seemed to understand. His lips tickled her own chest, ready to touch her breasts.

Suddenly, all contact ended.

"No…" Maes stood up, looking like a man conflicted. "We gotta go help…"

Gracia felt a similar awakening. "R-Right."

Maes felt around for his glasses, putting them on. He sat on the edge of the bed, grabbing for his boxer shorts. Gracia dipped deeper under the covers.

Hughes spoke nervously. "Eh, just to let you know…"

"Yes I know…" Gracia spoke out from inside the covers.

"Not now…"

"No."

"Of course! But, y'know, you looked pretty hot."

Gracia was slow to that compliment. "Thanks. And you looked well…employed!" She hid herself. Her skin shivered with goose pimples. A relief wasn't exactly wanted now, for all its necessity. Aunt Anya told her the positive aspects of sex, but Gracia never knew it was as awesome as this! The rush, this excitement, its rightness! For all its nakedness and connection, sex felt so natural. Something not only acceptable but enjoyed. She wanted to experience it.

Gracia cooled her feelings, which meant reason showed her what she was putting on. "Oh no!" she erupted from the red covers. "I left my clothes when I disguised myself!"

"Here, you can put on my overcoat." Maes turned to Gracia with the clothing. She touched it. Reason momentarily vanished again. It soon reasserted itself.

* * *

Fully clothed now (or fully covered, in Gracia's case), serious intention had the couple go through the passages to reunite with the other couple. "How do you know this place?" Gracia whispered innocently.

"The madam knew my mom and the General," Maes explained seriously.

Hearing that, Gracia decided she learned enough. She relied on Hughes' judgment. They passed through bedrooms; some empty, others unfortunately occupied. "They're not gonna allow us here again," Maes joked. Soon they met up with the couple.

Hughes took lead. They walked up some stairs. Gracia watched for anyone spotting them. This led to her seeing the lovers. They had her sympathy. An uneasy future awaited them. It's easy to dismiss it when one is young, but reality is like a cold. It will come back. She and Maes were not star-crossed, but Maes' breakdown showed that their relationship was going to suffer its own problems. Hopefully they can bear it.

Such an example was the awareness that they were going up the building instead of down. They were now out on the roof. Nice view to enjoy, but Gracia had a bad prediction of their journey.

"So, we wait here?" asked Miss Cordish.

"Hardly," Maes leaped to the ledge. "We go this way!" pointing to the other rooftops. Gracia joined her companions' lack of enthusiasm. True, the buildings were close together, but the wrong step could decide their health.

"Are you crazy?" said the man.

"You haven't known him enough to realize that?" Gracia cried.

* * *

Amazingly, the four made their escape without a problem. They reached a park. Night had come, giving darkness and sanctuary. Miss Cordish and her beau walked to a tree. Gracia and Maes kept their distance. No words were heard. The shadows covered their form. Nature was definitely saying something. Time to be heeded. So Gracia persuaded Hughes to head to a small pond. They gave it their own stroll.

"Do you think they'll find us?" Gracia's eyes were only on the moonlit waters.

"Not right now," Maes whispered behind her. "Good for us."

Gracia felt strong arms surround her, followed by a small kiss to her neck. "I'm afraid romance has infected me tonight too." Maes remarked with glee.

The same sparks crackled within Gracia, but rationality conquered it. She turned away from his face. "Maes?"

"What's wrong?"

"Let's wait."

Gracia felt his pressure subside. "I mean, don't get me wrong. What we did…almost did, was nice. But now I feel like we're rushing things." She faced him. "We've been dating for a week. And you kept this secret from me."

"But I..."

"I know, which is why I'm not so upset about it. But a relationship needs time to progress and develop. Shouldn't we make some trust before we have the physical kind?"

Hughes' confusion melted. "Sure. We'll take things nice and slowly. If you just want to hold hands." His hand slyly wrapped around Gracia's own. "That's fine. Just that. And we can even hold off the kissing." His bowed head showed he wasn't completely pleased with that idea.

"Maes!" Gracia grew cross. "I'm not that type of woman." She pounced his mouth like a tiger. And thus began a brief session of making out. After a few minutes of that and strolling, the two pairs of lovers rejoined each other. It was then Hughes made a disappointing wish. "Gracia, I think this is where we part ways. If we're caught, I don't want you associated."

Resolved, Gracia kissed her man. Then she looked at Miss Cordish. The lady's face displayed pride. Gracia's modesty made this a puzzle. She watched as the three disappeared into the darkness. She prayed their stealth was successful.

* * *

A week passed with a quiet rarely seen in hospitals. For Nurse Stern, she had the feeling of touching needles. This ailment started when a nurse mentioned that Maes had gotten into some trouble. Learning more about it added to the calamity. There was an inquiry about Miss Cordish's association with some riffraff. Although no evidence was found concerning the two lovers ever having a rendezvous, Hughes was implicated as a suspect, or a scapegoat. It didn't help matters that he had a history of meddling in other people's business. The woman's parents were very powerful, but so was General Lalacon.

Oh yes, the General. Gracia saw her about Hughes' situation. She didn't understand much of Lalacon's words, save for a couple of "That stupid idiot!"

Not surprisingly, Gracia saw little of her boyfriend. His absence brought the worse in fate. What could they do to him? He could be demoted. He could be fired. He might even be transferred to Ishbal! What if his meddling was grounds for execution? Every facet of the consequence and its inevitable coming troubled her.

Blame fell in her worries. Maes brought it on all on himself, she lamented. Oh, why did he have to help? Those were the first thoughts. She quickly rued it. Maes was doing a good thing. But she hoped her boyfriend's chivalry wouldn't be a problem for their relationship.

And then one day she spotted Maes. He looked happy, smiling and fun-loving. Something was wrong.

"Maes?" She rushed him with a strong embrace.

The man hugged back. "Can I speak to you in private?"

Not a good sign. Nevertheless, Gracia led him to the lounge. "So what happened?" The woman did not betray her intense fears.

Maes smiled.

"Don't hide the truth from me." Gracia opened some concern.

Maes sat down with a sigh. "No dismissal. No demotion. No court-martial."

Cross those worst fears out, Gracia thought.

"But a transfer."

Gracia tensed. "To Ishbal?"

Hughes shook his head. "That was the plan." His look came with a mixture of fear and relief. "But the General fought them. Boy, was she scary! Eventually they came up with a compromise. I'm going to Central. To its own branch of Investigation on Marital Affairs Division."

It took a few seconds for Gracia's reaction to form a response. Evidently fearing the worst for the last few days deflated the full effect of the real confession. As it was, it wasn't the worst or the best. "I don't know what to say," she faked a smile. "I mean, this is good, I think. You'll be working at the capital."

"Yeah," Maes was just as excited as she. "It's a step up right? Still far from the war." He looked very heavy about it.

Gracia leaned against him for a lift. "When do you leave?"

"Immediately."

Gracia paused at this truth. She tugged his arm. Then she freed herself with a complacent face. Her finger lifted her man's head. "Well, let me help you get packing!"

* * *

The apartment was practically empty save for furniture. A few hours were spent packing. Maes could have asked his friends, but he settled for just Gracia. She showed her considerable talents, managing to package his clothing in a neat, compact order. As a result, Maes had five pieces of luggage instead of more. All this she accomplished with a chipper attitude. Her heart was another matter.

They had a small dinner. Then Gracia stood with Maes for a dance around the room. Their hands on each other, their heads close. Their time went too quick, she lamented, and too short. Did he feel the same?

And then they slept together. It was a comfortable night. Gracia's hand rubbed against Maes' chest and abs, feeling it though the cotton undershirt that covered it. She eased to Hughes' own touch, feeling it all the way through her clothing. For they lay intimate but dressed. Several times they felt the mood to make love. A button was removed here and a shirt coming off there. But their shoes and Maes' shirt were the only things removed and lying on the floor. The mood and time were right for passionate loving; A final, meaningful goodbye that would last in their minds forever. But that was exactly the problem. It would be final. This was not the end for Maes and Gracia. Lovemaking was to cement their relationship, not signal its conclusion. And there will be no end. Maes admitted his resolve; he had endured almost two years winning her heart. So what are another few years? They had survived enough setbacks. Gracia agreed. Still, Aunt Anya was going to have a heart attack over all this chastity!

"Still awake?" Gracia's head rested on his chest, feeling his heartbeat.

"Not really," Hughes yawned. His eyes opened half-way with their limitation.

"Sorry." Gracia withdrew. She felt his touch strengthen.

"Don't be," Hughes turned to her. "I don't want to breeze thru my last night in East." His lips puckered. "I like sleeping with you."

"Nice choice of words," Gracia remarked, arching her face to his head.

"Well, we can do more than the literal." He kissed her.

Gracia hovered over temptation, but held on. "Literal is okay for now. But when we do, promise me something."

"Sure. Name it."

"No happy face."

That wish gave Maes a confused glance.

"I want to make love to the real you. To know your real joy."

Hughes' eyebrows elevated. "You know that's going to be hard. That's grounds for smiling."

Gracia laid her head again, wrapping around his body. "I know you can do it."

A clock from outside chimed three times. It gave the cold reality of the future.

Hughes grumbled. "Do you wish I didn't help them?"

"No," Gracia gave a sad but true answer.

Hughes grew his hug on her. "I was brought up to please people. But recently I've learned that pleasing people and doing the right thing aren't mutually exclusive. So if I have to choose, it's doing the right thing."

Gracia sniffed the smell of his chest. "You're weird, Maes."

"And what's wrong with that?"

"Nothing." She made a loving whisper and a kiss.

* * *

Gracia awoke to her sole occupancy of the bed. The bags were still present. The sound of the shower told her Maes' whereabouts. They slept together in the literal. She did want it this way, and yet she didn't want it. And he will leave today. Gracia began to cry. Then she steeled herself and got to work fixing his last breakfast here. While serving the plates to the table, her eyes fell on a small case. It was his push-knives. She remembered stealing them during Maes' mad period. She opened it. Knives lovingly displayed like silverware. Except these utensils can be used for killing. But they were Maes' possessions. She took one out.

The door opened with Maes in his robe. "Something smells delicious!"

He looked at her and the knife. "Planning to do me in?"

"Oh yes," Gracia made a cool reply. "I'm the spurned lover."

"I knew there had to be a downside to you," Hughes walked over.

Gracia raised the knife for display. "Can I keep this, though?"

"Weird kind of souvenir." Hughes appeared positive about it. "You can think of it as me."

"Oh, grow up, Maes!" Gracia playfully shrugged away.

"Oh, Gracia?"

She turned before the flash of a camera.

"Now I got something of you," the photographer grinned at his achievement.

The very idea was against Gracia's pride. "Give me that picture, Hughes!" She swung the knife. "I look a mess!"

"Hey, watch where you wave that thing!" Maes ducked around corners.

They scuffled and sparred. The laughter continued to the bed. It subsided as they kissed and rubbed. But within the length of a minute, reality returned. They made a somber halt. "Gracia," Maes spoke seriously. "You are the only woman I'll ever make love to. I'll wait forever for you."

Gracia absorbed his loyalty. How can she be any lesser? "Let me get you breakfast," she arose. "We'll have it on the bed."

Maes changed to his uniform and shared breakfast at the bed. Even his mirthful expressions uplifted little. But Gracia matched his smiles with her own glee. Silently they gathered the belongings. He picked up two suitcases and a knapsack around his shoulder. Gracia lifted two bags. They walked to the door. They took a look back. "My first apartment." Maes whispered, his expressions carrying every reaction to what he saw here.

Gracia also saw the brief experiences of the room. What they taught her about Maes Hughes. Trust, learning, understanding. It felt like leaving her home too.

And it was shut out to them forever.

* * *

Through a cab, Maes and Gracia reached the station. Again, memory cast a sad glow to this new but similar set piece. A train came, demanding Maes' presence. Gracia took it in calm. Still Maes acted like the morale-booster. "No tears, Gracia." It was obvious the advice was for him. He tried to hide his tears under his glasses.

"Don't worry, Maes," Gracia buttoned his coat. "Don't forget to write. You will write to me?"

"Everyday." Maes gave his word.

The train began to be boarded. The boyfriend got into action. "Make this goodbye kiss count." Thus Gracia and Maes' lips met again, passionate, long, but reluctantly ended.

And they separated. Their eyes locked, wanting more, afraid of an end. In final resolve, Maes beamed his happy face, tipped his cap, and went to the train. He vanished with the other passengers. Gracia took out the knife and grasped it tightly. She searched for a window. Maes appeared in one of them, his face glued to the glass.

With one hand holding the knife, Gracia waved her other. It was reciprocated. No sadness escaped from her face. The train left and disappeared. She remained at her spot as the place was emptied or filled by passengers. Her defiance ended in cruel understanding. There would be no Hughes coming out from the smoke, at least not for a while. And so she left the station. No one there saw an emotional scene from Gracia; her face did not break a single tear.

But red tears dripped from her hand.

* * *

To be continued


	10. A Cold Day

The Woman He Loved

Chapter 10: A Cold Day

By Claudius

_For Nellie_

Warning: This features some mature content.

_

* * *

Dear Maes,_

_I hope this letter gets to you quickly. I would like to get your response._

_I kept a good front on your leaving. I'm pretty good with the poker face too, though not as enduring as yours. I could lie and say everything is fine and laadeedah...but I think it's time for a little truth in our relationship, and the truth is that I miss you. I miss you so much. _

_From the two wet dots on the sheet, you can probably know my mood. It hasn't changed with the week. I try to pretend that you're still here in East; that you're just busy. It doesn't work. There was never a week in which I did not see you. How can I possibly pretend you visited me? Although I may be crazy about you, I'm not as crazy as you._

_Crazy. It's incredible that this could happen to me, the anti-romantic! I never let anyone sweep me off my feet. Now I wonder how could I have been so numb to such feelings. You waited for my heart to return your love. Thank you for your patience these two years. And now that we're separated, it is now my turn to wait for you. I won't let you down…_

_I'm not the only one missing you. I visited Rizzie the other day. Gran kept staring around. I guess he was hoping to see you with me…_

_I met some good people during this week. Dr. ---- Rockbell and his wife Sara. They have a small clinic in their home at Reseembol. They have a beautiful daughter named Winry. She's seven. They are going to Ishbal to set up a clinic. They intend to treat soldiers and civilians from both sides. It is a rare thing that people view the Ishbalans as fellow human beings and not foreign devils. Still, I wish they didn't leave their daughter behind (or left her period)…_

_I think I've written enough distraction. Please write me soon._

_

* * *

Dear Gracia,_

_Giving me your tears? Aw, that's sweet of you. I'd do the same, but I think the ink and paper will suffer._

_That's my attempt at humor. Truth is I'm getting little of it right now. I'm good writing documents and reports, but a love letter? Now, you know I never gave you any mushy love notes. It's funny, I'm great with talking, but writing is a different matter. I should stick to long distance telephone calls, right?_

_But you're right; I think being a little realistic is called for. Which brings me back to the 'missing you' part. Would it be corny to say that I feel unfinished without you? Well, so I'm corny! Criticisms fly out the window whenever love is concerned. I miss you so much too. To get your love, and then leave soon after is a crummy deal in a life full of them …_

_And I adore your love. Don't sell yourself short with the emotional cripple belief. A woman who cares for patients and children like you has always possessed heart. You just had problems finding the right people to show it…I'm sorry about Gran. When I make a visit, let's spend a day with him and Rizzie, huh? _

_What can I say about Central? It's a huge, busy city. Makes East look like a hamlet. My job at the Court Martial Investigation Division has led me to meeting Fuhrer King Bradley a lot. Yes, the same Fuhrer who changed my choice of weaponry via impaling my wrist in a playful demonstration. But it turns out he's a nice guy to me…even if he freaks out my hand. Yes, my job is going to get tougher. So I'm going to have to work harder… I've been trying to make friends. My happy face does persuade a lot. But I don't think I'll ever have a greater friend than you…and maybe Roy in some small way. The two of you are the only people who ever got to know the real me. BTW, send me more pictures of you. I want to show you off..._

_

* * *

Dear Maes,_

_It's been months since your last visit. Working in the capital must not allow you much time. Not that I'm in any position to complain; the responsibilities of my job have also given me little time to myself. At least our correspondence has remained frequent. If we can't see each other, then we can still write…_

_What time I do have is spent helping Rizzie and Gran. The less said about Rizzie's life the better. Her son is a different matter! He's getting taller, bigger. He has started walking everywhere. I doubt the combined power of his mother and me can hold him down..._

_Remember the Rockbells? Just to remind you, the Rockbells are looking for assistance in their Ishbal clinic. They contacted Nurse Schmidt about the possibility of using my own talents. I'm afraid that I hesitated and rejected the offer. The Rockbells and the people of Ishbal would benefit from my help, but it's too late. I must repay your patience with me, Maes. So as I have always done these many months, I will wait for you. _

_

* * *

Dear Gracia,_

_It's been a rough year at Central. I know I should hide the truth, but that's not to your liking, is it? It's an uphill battle as an investigator. Working on the courts hasn't taken me away from seeing violence. I've seen bad things happen to good people. And sometimes the monsters get away with it. I just want to pay them back. But my soul has been through enough cruelty for a lifetime. So I've been training harder on my skill with push-knives. I have to disarm an assailant rather than killing him. I hope that will be enough; I don't want any more blood on my hands. For your sake, and mine. _

_No doubt you've been hearing rumors of me and another girl. Let me set the story straight. Nothing happened. One day, I met this General Sorch and his daughter Solaris. I was their magnet, constantly meeting them. The General asked me to be courteous to the young lady, escorting her around buildings or dancing with her at parties. Nothing big, at least that's what I believed. Then one night at a social gathering, Sorch makes this big announcement. "May I introduce you all to my future son-in-law!"_

_I quickly reacted. I announced that there was no engagement whatsoever. I think I got myself in trouble with ex-future-father-in-law. No, I am in trouble. Sure, I could have been more tactful. But there is tact and there is letting people control my life or choose who I want be with. Besides, I'd make a terrible trophy husband with my problems._

_Poor Solaris, but poorer you and me if I took her hand in marriage. I am devoted only to you Gracia. For all that girl's status and money, she's a pale copy next to you. Only one shall hold the title of Mrs. Maes Hughes, and it's not Solaris. _

_Not that this means an announcement or anything to you. After all, it's better to do that face-to-face..._

_

* * *

Dear Maes,_

_I haven't met Solaris. She has my sympathy for having her hopes be dashed. But it was still nasty of her father to snowball you into this engagement._

_Forget modesty. I'm glad about your choice. There is not a minority of people who would have done the alternative. Whatever you may perceive yourself, Maes, you are a man of true character and loyalty. That cannot be faked with a smile._

_Gran has turned two. He's now talking. It's a joy to see a child growing up. And yet, I miss the baby he once was. Oh here am I, worming into Rizzie's job! It's shameful. I should have children of my own. I'm not getting any younger. Still, I looked older back then. Nurses have come and gone, and the new ones no longer call me an old maid or 'Glacier.' How old I was back then…_

_

* * *

Dear Gracia,_

_Months ago I hinted to some plans for finding 'Mrs. Maes Hughes.' Well, I make no secrets of my intentions, Gracia. Right now things have happened that make that decision very top in my head…_

_For a while, I've been languishing over menial paperwork. I guess ending trophy bride-to-be's ambitions haven't helped my career much (Don't mess with a Daddy's girl or you get Daddy's wrath). Well, that might change. Command has assigned me a mission. Something I can't tell you about. Not yet. This may require some more distance between the two of us. So you won't be getting any letters from yours truly anytime soon…_

_Just wait for me, my love. We've been through too much for this relationship to end. When you see me again, there shall come a decision._

* * *

Gracia held her newest letter as she headed for the mailbox. The snowfall had made its daunting effect, but nothing could detract her trip. Last winter didn't stop her, so the present one in the last months of 1908 would be of little change. The same could be said for the country. Amestris was still at war with Ishbal. Oh, there was news that it was almost over, decisive victories, the war having been already won, etc. She heard a lot of that in 1907, and 1906, and 1905... Maybe it will never end, or until Ishbal completely ceases to exist. The dread filled her mind, given the evidence of so many dead. Soldiers, civilians, children. Even the Rockbells became casualties. Gracia heard the news the other day at work. Some Ishbalans blew up the clinic with the couple and countless patients inside it. The winter cold played no part in her present feeling.

Death. Gracia thought she could be more mature about it. But it was not impotent to any age, even for one almost twenty-four. It worried her a little about Maes. It had been a long time since she got a letter from him. This mission of his became her priority as well, despite the unknown knowledge of it. She refused to think of the absence of appearance or letters as a sign for the worse. Not that it eased her heart any bit. Three years ago she would think of such feelings as drivel. Sometimes Gracia missed that woman, free of the pangs that now hit her heart. But to never know love, for good or ill? Change was good.

And as Gracia went through this path of thoughts, the path to the mailbox ended. The box had taken on some holy significance, as it has been for many people. Only, like each person, its significance felt important only to her. Romance really makes the ordinary things extraordinary. In a reverent spell, Gracia dropped her letter through the chute. Did Maes even read any of her letters? She thought about his desk being a mess of envelopes, waiting to be read.

"How long will it take for me to get that letter?"

The voice struck Gracia cold. She turned and saw a man before her. He stood next to the lamppost as erect and still. A mess of curls covered the upper part of his head, but the lower part failed the deception. Before her stood Maes Hughes! Minutes passed in Gracia's mind during the seconds of reality. She saw changes of time come to her man. And it proved easy to notice, even for one who took the cover of a Happy Face. No longer short-haired, Maes' black follicles leaked down his head like a messy curly mop. But Gracia saw a more subtle contrast as well. Maes carried sadness in his grinning face. His eyes showed many experiences. They proved the truth of his later letters. At any rate, such rationale mattered little to the woman as she embraced the man. She seemed the more excited one in this loving contact. Her love moaned.

"Be gentle, Gracia," Maes spoke, half plead, half mock. He wiggled anxiously, massaging his shoulder. "Got into a fight with somebody. Ouch!" He emphasized his sensitivity.

"Oh I'm sorry," Gracia apologized, before swinging her attitude. "I meant no offense, Captain."

"That's Major to you," Maes quickly recovered.

This news sent Gracia into a whirl of pride. "Congratulations." She kissed his cheek. "Did this come from the secret mission?"

Hughes tensed a bit. "Yes, mission accomplished." He limited the explanation with silence.

With sensitive thought, Gracia decided to change the subject. "Well, as you just saw, I wrote you a letter."

"Care to recite it for me?" He replied slowly. "Your letters are no substitute for your voice."

"Then you've read them?"

"Yep," Maes sighed. "I could spend the day reading your little 'novel.' Speaking of which, what was in the latest chapter?"

As much as Gracia felt satisfaction, she felt rubbed by the changes in her boyfriend. There was a low tone to his positive remarks. Well, at least Maes was giving out negativity in small doses, rather than suppressing them.

The two reached a bench, where Gracia retold what she wrote down. Then she came to the death of the Rockbells. Maes barely empathized. "I'm sorry."

Gracia disregarded this in her own sadness. "I wish I could have done something."

"And get killed too?" Maes was icy.

Gracia blinked at this coldness, then dispensed it. Time to change the subject. "And how's Roy?"

Maes made another difference. "I would like it if we don't talk about him."

And Gracia felt a twist within herself. The Flame Alchemist shot painfully into her mind. This horrible war! "I'm sorry."

"He's not dead." Hughes snapped his apology. "Just dead to me."

Gracia's relief of Roy's survival was little. Seemed her boyfriend had gained a petty side. And he wasn't altogether content with it. Maes kept quiet for a moment. "Boy, we seem to be stuck in nerve territory." Again, a humor contradicted by a tone anything but. This served to peak Gracia's curiosity. Something did happen to him, perhaps something with Roy. An explanation was demanded, but she decided passivity instead. Fortunately, Maes spoke first. "Some things have happened to me. Some losses. Things like that are hitting me with a sledgehammer about my life. Where am I going, how long do I have?" He mused to some somber epiphany. "With that in mind," He hung his head. "I can't go wasting my life. On the day I do go, I don't want any regrets."

A serious Maes Hughes was talking now: Gracia knew this to be important.

Maes got on his knees. Gracia had the utter recognition. Her heart jumped. She beheld his hard eyes on her as he took out a small box. "Will you marry me?" His intentions opened with the box, and the ring inside.

Gracia did not think of aging or making Maes happy. She thought of her own happiness. Excited, she gasped as if to laugh. "Yes, I will."

Maes arose. He did not embrace her at all. That was Gracia's job to do so. Soon her finger glowed with the ring.

"I've saved a little. And I'll make more as a Major." Maes spoke seriously. Gracia was too distracted from the shine of her ring. The man was just being practical. She hugged and kissed him.

"Just wait until I tell Aunt Anya, Rizzie, and the staff!"

Hughes was calm. "Gonna tell your father?"

The ring lost its lustrous power. Gracia took to the reality. "Oh yes, I forgot. Dad."

"You're not going to change your mind, are you?" Hughes questioned a little nervously.

"Of course not. But father…"

"He's not the one getting married."

"Right." Gracia jumped to the point. She had spent the last year making her old man comfortable to her relationship with Maes. So far, she had little success. Well, this time the man was going to accept his new son-in-law! "We'll go now." Gracia arose from the bench. She was going to start the most important event of her life. No more feet dragging!

Maes slowly followed her lead. Slowly. The leaden step of his walk was another change.

* * *

Gracia and Maes went to her house. Gracia was emotional about the outcome, contrasting with her cool fiancee. Together they would announce their engagement to father. That came the plan. Why was she so anxious about it? It all came down to father. Would he care that his only daughter was getting married? Actually, 'caring' from her father was a stretch. Well, all that will happen behind the door.

"Ready when you are." Gracia shared her decisiveness with Maes. But she entered the house first. In the hall, Mr. Stern had come out of his study. His appearance impressed Gracia, almost causing her to forget her plan. Almost. Professor Johann Stern looked analytically at the new presence. "Good Evening, Captain Hughes. My daughter did not inform me of your presence." He looked with a growing brow. Maes remained aloof.

"Father, great news!" Gracia announced the news headfirst. She was the only one making the announcement. "Maes and I are getting married!" She displayed her ring. Here it comes…

Johann Stern did not make a completely cold action to this news. Up went the eyebrow. There was no strong reaction, just words to his daughter. "Gracia, can you please speak with me in private?"

Gracia looked at Maes. She was confident. Maes was statuesque. She separated from him and went to the study. Gracia told her father her plans to become a nurse here. It was always a place of important situations. She steeled herself to the expectant results.

Johann sat at his chair, fingers folded together in meditative stance. "Have you thought much on your decision?" Before Gracia could speak, the man quickly continued. "Are you being serious about _your_ _choice_?" His mention on the last two words came rather strong.

"Yes, I have," Gracia equally emphasized her point.

"Is this man right for you?" Johann raised his voice to an unusually loud tone.

Gracia was dumbfounded. After a year of describing her boyfriend, how could her father refuse to admit his importance to her? But that detail was a smaller one to this uncommon behavior. Her father could give simple indifference or a negative passing thought. She expected that from him. Instead she got a strong objection. Her father had never argued much with her in any situation. To this surprise tactic, all Gracia could do now is speak calmly to him. "Dad, I…"

"Don't do this," Johann spit out, his face sagging vulnerability.

Gracia failed to continue. Was this her father, the stoic intellectual who could speak dozens of reasons? All he could muster was '_Don't do this'_?

"Now, father. I am a grown woman."

"You are my daughter!" The father sprung to her, making no contact save emotionally. He retreated with awkwardness. "I...know that you're older. I just..." The man who could speak lectures to students found difficulty in speaking to his own daughter. And it was enough to strike Gracia deep.

The man rubbed his forehead. "I…know I have not been a close father. It's who I am. Your mother handled it better." The man spoke and acted in things unfamiliar to his persona. "But ever since she died, I've done all I was able to. And you have been there for me, always." The man's shield, his intellect, failed him as he cringed to the chair. "Don't do this. Don't leave."

Such admission froze Gracia. Near twenty-four years had cemented her with a solid view of her father. Not the extreme exhaustive emotions he gave now. Johann Stern lingered between calm, frustration, and anger - A painful coalition for any witness. "You can't leave. You're all I have."

Gracia wavered on this man who suddenly was not her father. The emotions he gave opened a hope that lied dormant in her. Years passed as she waited for this recognition. Once upon a time, she would be glad. But this time she was not ready. What can she say? Wishful thinking gave her little readiness in words. But she did something her father once rejected years ago. She hugged her father. "It will be alright."

It was a reflex she spoke. Not a solution. And then Gracia realized the complexity of her situation. Its heavy burden stomped upon her overwhelmingly. She stood up with a sick feeling and left the room. How to handle this she didn't know at this moment. As a result, five minutes passed in her indecision. At its end, Gracia went to her fiancee. With a mouth filled with lead she spoke. "Maes?" Nothing. She spoke again. Nothing was the response. She came down the steps. No one was in the hall. Maes was absent. His coat was missing. The lack of evidence gave Gracia the given conclusion. Maes had departed. He left her!

In this striking truth, the woman felt nothing as she walked to the front door. Her face felt a prick of cold near her eyes. Her father entered her presence. Gracia gazed at him with her upset face. The man had a calmer face, not unhappy. "I told you so." Then the man turned away.

Gracia kept to her spot. Now those pricks lined her cheeks. And the moment had come. One decision made, the other denied. Gracia wiped her face. She walked upstairs to her choice. Indeed, the choice had been already decided the moment she left her father's study.

* * *

A suitcase was on the bed, opened. Gracia had several pairs of clothes share space with her nurse uniform. A hand-mirror, a brush, and jewelry, all her mother's, were carefully removed from the table and taken into the case. Added to it were some pictures. Finally came the push-knife. That remained outside. The case was shut, the valuables of her life inside it. Grasping both knife and case like glue, Gracia returned to the hall. She put on her shoes and coat, slipping the knife into her purse. Everything was done meticulously without a misstep. How this happened was a wonder.

And then Gracia saw her father, giving his usual monolithic presence. Only its impression had deteriorated since the hour. He had changed in Gracia's eyes, and not for the better. The factor was not his behavior in the study; it was his refusal to continue doing so.

"Where are you going?"

Gracia sighed, wrapping a scarf around her neck. "After Maes."

The man was hit, or as hit as a man of his demeanor could be. "Is that your choice?" He coldly asked.

"Yes, father."

Johann grimaced. "I don't think…"

"Your thinking has no bearing on it," Gracia sharply interrupted the man. She tried to be cold, but her voice came out as understanding in its finality. "Ever the rationalist. I know you now. Why you've approached intellect. Taking the objective gives you distance."

The man kept his stance, despite this vulnerable hit.

"Maybe that's how you've endured mother's death. Analysis is your shield from feeling." Gracia raised her hand to her father's cheek.

The man refused. "It's who I am." Not a confession. His acceptance. Now the father who acknowledged her importance seemed like a dream. Its own truth hurt Gracia, but it did not weaken her stance. She rued her actions as she was committed to them.

"And I almost became you. For a while, I used mind over heart. I actually thought you were the perfect model of a man. Of what a man really is. And then I met Maes Hughes. Whenever he came to me with words of love, I suspected the worst of him. Instead I found him a warm, caring soul. I soon considered him the exception of mankind. Turns out you are."

Johann did nothing to these first insults Gracia ever gave him. All emotions had been spent an hour ago. He just turned away with condescension. "He'll break your heart." His words lacked paternity, but cold punishment. "When that happens, don't ever come back here!"

Gracia marshaled everything as she turned to the door. An inner battle had ended with a costly victory. "At least I'll have a heart to break." And by her last words, Gracia walked out of her home. It was not easy.

* * *

The snow increased as the light faded. But Gracia made her journey to the inn where Maes stayed temporarily. _Temporarily._ The word gave the desperation of her trip. _Let him be there._ Gracia's messages of hope collided with remonstrations on herself. _You've made some really bad mistakes in the past. What you've done now tops them!_

Well, it wasn't exactly that. Gracia knew her choice. But she waited too long to enact it. Her intelligence came to a scenario. Maes must have overheard or taken a peek of her confrontation with father, made a conclusion and left. Idiot! Why do people hear a part of a conversation and think they got the whole idea? Then again, she has done the same before. Well she fixed those problems, so she'll fix this! She made her choice. And she chose Maes. And she will remember what she didn't choose. The right thing doesn't automatically mean freedom from some unhappiness.

Yes, she was rationalizing things. Old habits died hard. Gracia sighed as much as she could without breaking down. The cold and wind were better forces than the battles within herself. What a mad rush her life has become! It started with sending a letter and now she was forever estranged from father. And Maes was…

Gracia shrugged the possible logic. It was all a big misunderstanding. She loved Maes, who loved her, or once did. Her thoughts switched from rational to heart. Did he still want her now, after what he thought she did? Well, she'll tell him the truth and all will hopefully be well. Hopefully.

She came to the small inn. One part of the journey has been completed. On entry her first task was to calmly ask the manager. He said a Maes Hughes was indeed residing here. Gracia barely let out a breath. She turned to a sofa and waited. And waited and waited.

The door opened, a gust of cold wind blew through. Here did Maes enter the lobby. No mirth shined on his face, darkened with a scowl. "What are you doing here?" He asked indifferently.

Gracia couldn't read the emotion behind that question. "I'm here."

Maes indifferently removed his coat.

"I left my father." Gracia spoke hard words. "You thought I chose him. But you're wrong."

Maes passed her. "Go back, if there's still time."

"Maes. I can't go back."

"You have to," Maes' voice strongly demanded his wish. "The last thing I want to do is break up a family."

"I can't do that anymore, Maes."

"Tough." Maes hissed as he walked away.

The cruelty surprised Gracia. "Maes, wait! I'm sorry if…"

_"You're sorry?"_ Hughes now turned to her. His face, which could be as happy as a cherub, showed the darker likeness of a devil. Eyes glowed with sparks, mouth twisted, voice loud. "Okay, so you're sorry! Well, it's too late for that!"

Several of the attendants noticed Hughes' righteous rage and its target. "For years I have scheduled myself to your insecurities, your inabilities to commit. No more." He shrugged away, making an attempt at moderation. "You blew it."

"That's not fair," Gracia sighed to his accusations. She kept her head erect, holding back all the destruction in her. Inside her heart sagged and bled. Any attempt to sooth her hurt was like putting a few drops of water on a blazing fire. "You're not being fair!"

"Nothing is," Maes smoldered in behavior if not emotion. "I've had it. I almost died. I don't want to waste what's left of my life on some indecisive female."

And Gracia took the cruelty and rejection with silence. Maes had made his decision. And she had made her choice. If Maes wanted nothing of her, then she would…go somewhere else. And he will not see her cry. Gracia pulled the ring out of her finger, and the knife out of her purse. "Take these back." She waved the knife handle, the ring inside her palm. "If you want nothing of me, than I'll have nothing of you." Those invulnerable words were mouthed. Her hand clutched the blade without weakness.

Maes turned to her. He snatched the blade free. The ring banged the floor with music. And the man caught one last look at her. His scowl crumbled into a horrified shock.

Gracia looked at her bloodied hand. The sudden sting hit her with full force, shattering her weak defenses. Maes dropped the push-knife, which made a less beautiful music in its landing. He gave it no attention. He grabbed Gracia's wounded hand, applying a handkerchief to the palm to stop the bleeding.

"It's okay," Gracia gritted her resolve, refusing to be a target of worry. "I've never been squeamish about blood…" A calm reply, more deserving of a calmer situation. Right now, too much had happened to maintain her stance.

But Maes still touched her hand. He stiffened, only raising his face. His lime eyes met Gracia's own, lighting up again. With a smooth pull, he took Gracia's hand to his lips and kissed it. The kiss grew bigger, his mouth practically close to swallowing her hand. He embraced her with a wild abandon of his coldness. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" He held her tight. Then he began kissing her. Gracia allowed it.

There came a sound of clapping. What a show for these people!

Maes darted out, pulling Gracia with him. Together they ran to his room. It was as if fate had them as puppets, emotions guiding their actions. With his lips still within hers, Maes pushed the door open and pulled Gracia into the room. Pressured to the wall, Gracia felt Maes as he grabbed her blouse. Both had full knowledge of the consequences. They surrendered with fright and resolution. Maes touched the top button of her blouse, freeing it. His fingers did the same to the others, growing impatient in their emancipation. The final ones had to be torn off. Gracia's bra-cupped breasts came exposed, soon to be stripped as well! Gracia grabbed Maes' shirt in turn, helping him undo it.

"No!" Maes broke contact. He backed away, embracing himself. "I forgot…" A look of shame grew on his face.

Returning to reality, Gracia stared at him confused, shocked. Her lover looked very scared. "Maes…what happened?"

From his face, Maes looked as if he fought for his choice to answer her. For a minute he hesitated on some ugly truth. Then he slowly pulled his shirt off. The full damage on his body was completely revealed to Gracia's vulnerable eyes.

"Those weren't from a fight," Gracia asked with growing discovery. "Were they?" Maes had been tortured! It explained a lot.

Maes kept his face hidden in a haunted bow. "I got into some trouble." The smoothness of his convictions dwindled. "I know, Gracia. I know. I'm a mess. A far cry from the physical I gave you years ago."

Indeed it was, thought Gracia. Mortality now emphasized its reality upon Maes' ravaged form. His body was still well muscled. But the smooth, polished beauty of his physique she first glimpsed years ago? It was no more.

Of course, she did not love him back then.

The vulnerable man grabbed for his shirt, turning away. "I understand. You…"

Gracia touched his chin, pushing his shamed face to see her. She hoped her face showed nothing of disgust, for that lack was truly there. She kissed him. "Make love to me, Maes." Her skin leaned upon his rough body. "Please make love to me."

Gracia felt no reciprocation. Maes' arms remained hanging. To embrace or refuse were equally possible. But a moment of disappointment vanished when strong hands caressed her bare back. Then his lips warmed upon hers. Confidence strengthened Gracia with its brave power. She shared it with Maes.

* * *

Gracia awoke. As dimness ebbed, her thoughts opened to the last time she was awake. Her mind photographed everything. The ceiling. Maes' face. A dangling dog tag. A bare leg. A naked shoulder. The bed sheets covering their shapely bodies. But it was the touching that really mattered. Their lips moving, as if to cover every part of the body: she rubbed and kissed his skin, his muscles, and his scars. Nothing was avoided, or maintained; the strong feelings pressed upon her to touch more of his body. _And how Maes loved her!_ Gracia felt like a balloon being inflated. Soon she would explode. And she did just that: Her loud gasp eased to an attempt to gain sanity in such a chaotic ritual. One that was ever blissful.

It was a good remembrance. And Gracia awoke to see the empty part of the bed. Her hand rubbed the cold side. Maes hadn't slept in it? This proof contradicted with his actions. The coldness of before did not exist in his hot, spontaneous lovemaking. Before any old fears rose up, the sound of a shower drowned them.

Assurance then came. Gracia snapped a grin, falling back on the bed. Rusty bedspring noise sounded in the impact. Did the bed make noise? Gracia had been naïve to the flaw. The noise had to have happened, considering the action on it. Guess the noise had been drowned out by the sounds they made. The experience caused her much glee, her arms embracing herself in a flash of embarrassment, acceptance, shame, and joy. She had made love, had sex, lost her virginity, got deflowered; every phrase of that intimacy moved her. The nervous fears seemed a memory. It was like learning how to ride a bike or swim. Scared at first, but glad it was done, with the future excitement of more to come!

The room became memorized to her eyes and mind. It was pale and threadbare, with a rusty bed, and plain brown sheets. Not quite the lavish bordello, but it was the nicest room to make love in anyway. Gracia indulged in her pleasure. Not that ecstasy was complete, as the other consequences still wavered. _Father. _Gracia's face felt the pillow. It gained some moist tears. Wish Maes was with her, she thought.

That can be arranged. Gracia got up from the bed. The fall of the covers revealed her nakedness. She remedied this by garbing in Maes' shirt. This was temporary, for as soon as she entered the bathroom, she became naked again. She opened the curtains. Maes' wet backside came to her view. His muscles tensed as he slowly turned. "Uh…you don't have to…"

But the nude Gracia already entered the shower. On this day, anything went! "Turn around."

Maes turned back to the shower.

"Don't worry. I've given sponge baths before." Gracia frothed her hands with soap. She kept a pleasing voice despite the hurt of her eyes. Maes looked like a human zebra, as his form had an army of stripes from the neck to the thighs. These marks came long and thin, short and wide. They crossed his back horizontally, vertically, or diagonally. The green dragon tattoo on his shoulder was untouched, though surrounded by a mark here and there.

On the whole, the marks weren't too severe, except for two very large tears. One wound from his shoulder blade to his pectoral. Another ranged on the opposite side below the ribs. The torturers must have changed instruments, she thought objectively. And the scars were kept in the objective.

Gracia applied her soapy hands on his back. Hughes cringed. "Did it hurt?"

"Not anymore," Maes weakly denied. "It's been a month. You can play connect the dots on me." 'Happy Face' Hughes spoke now.

"Maes," Gracia interrupted firmly. "It's alright."

Hughes' head stilled for a moment, than sank into the wall. His response was serious.

"I never saw myself as vain. But when you start out as a picked-on fat kid, then turn into a buff hunk, you get a little proud of yourself." He shook his head. "I must be ugly to you."

"It's nothing to be ashamed of." Gracia lay on her lover's back. Maes did nothing. Then he spoke, his face hidden in the 'rain.' "I did some undercover work, in disguise. I got found out. Got paid big time." Maes spoke obscurely. "They…said I had the physique of a statue. They decided to crack it."

Gracia blotted out the dark imagination from her mind. She turned to face his injuries.

"I kept my mouth shut. Don't know how." Maes' hands closed to fists, squeezing in pressure.

Gracia tried to soften his intensity. "It's nothing, dear."

"No!" Maes raised his voice. "You don't understand. They got into me. I wasn't raped, but I feel…violated." He beat the wall. "I'm glad they're dead." It was a voice uncertain on how to treat such a curse.

Gracia closed her eyes.

"I don't want to feel this way." He hissed. "Vulnerability sucks."

"No," Gracia stayed firm to Maes' anger. "You're wrong."

His shoulders quivered with a flinch. He dug his head deeper into the sprinkling water. "Gracia…please leave."

And so Gracia released him from her embrace. Her intelligence protected her. Using the water to hide his tears. She knew it. But Hughes was hiding again, from her. She knew that too. She walked out of the shower. Without thinking, she grabbed a towel and dried herself.

There came the return to the bed. Rather than pull on some clothing, Gracia got under the covers. She pooled them around her breasts. Perhaps he was in the mood for more? Maybe not. Gracia grasped at straws. And yet the woman sat up in bed, awaiting the silhouette of her lover's naked form to appear. Instead she got a voice. "Gracia?"

"Yes?" She shivered for the consequences.

"Please turn off the light."

Gracia did so, adding darkness as a cover.

"Please turn around."

With disappointment, Gracia did as asked. She looked to the plain wall. The bed quaked, the bedsprings squeaked, and the blanket pulled. Maes now lay next to her, completely covered in blankets. Only his head stuck out, with a face that could not look at her.

Still the woman was unruffled. She sunk her hand into the covers, feeling for his muscled flesh.

"Gracia, please." Maes sounded agitated. "We have to get up tomorrow morning."

Gracia recoiled her arm from Maes and turned again to the wall. Her body coddled itself. For a night of such intimacy, the lovers slept its remainder very alienated.

* * *

To be continued

For an account of Maes' torture and his estrangement from Roy, read _Memories of a Best Friend._


	11. Repair

The Woman He Loved

Chapter 11: Repair

By Claudius

Has some mature content

* * *

"Mr. Hughes here wishes an examination."

That's what Dr. Kurtz informed Gracia. She remembered the old doctor. He later moved to Central. Seeing him here in this ward returned the memory of that day four years ago. In fact, that particular memory was here! Right down to the patient, who repeated his explanation to the doctor, but with eyes on Gracia! "I want some info on my old ticker." He amusingly explained while beating his chest. Maes Hughes wanted to know if he had inherited his father's heart condition. It turned out to be nothing of the sort, Gracia realized. Maes had a strong heart. She felt it beat many times since this physical of four years ago.

This must be some dream! Gracia recognized the cause of this deja vu. And it was probably going to be a good one. Maes Hughes was stripping himself of all his clothes. Oh, how she tried not to look at the man! Maes made it so hopeless with his muscularly toned body. His thickly rounded arms bouncing off that carved torso! His pectorals lumped upon his chest, meeting together to bear a ripple before the neck! The abs on his stomach! And those fine legs that sprouted from the hem of his white shorts!

"Would you believe I was fat once?" Hughes joked, patting his rippled belly.

Gracia sighed at his straight face. This physical was one big farce: a cunning plan by the patient to ensnare her. Every posture and stance he made cried out his message: _Look at me! I'm all handsome and muscle-ly! You have to go out with me!_ Shameless attempt to get a date! Roy must have put him up to it. But Gracia was ready for him. Such display of physical beauty gave her some direct hits, but she did not break. The past self saw no surrender. She was Glacier the man-hater back then, thinking the worst of this man and his sex! She came to learn better.

And it was with that truth that Gracia took over the dream. She walked to the man, standing erect with a serene face. How young he looked back then, pure and innocent for all his mischief. Gracia raised her hand and touched his cheek. Her fingers went down to his smooth skin. It felt the bumps where his two pectorals met, dangled his dog tag, then trailed down the ripples on his stomach. She stopped just atop the waistband of his white boxer shorts. Naughtily her fingertip tugged the band under his navel.

With his eyes locked to her presence, Maes pulled down his shorts. Back then Gracia laughed, a counterattack upon his exhibitionism. Back then and especially now, the target did not justify such insulting mirth. She did not reprise her response, smiling lustfully at his shameless manipulations. So this be a dream, eh? The thinker took reins. With hairpins off, she let her long brown hair collapse down to her back. Quickly nurse and patient fell into romance. She felt his caress upon her skin, revealing her sudden lack of clothes. Dr. Kurtz had vanished. No impropriety overwhelmed her nerves.

Gracia rubbed her man's torso. Its muscles grew more defined and permanent. A green tattoo marked his shoulder. He had gotten stronger, handsomer, darker. Maes' face still smiled, but it was offset by the cruelty of his eyes. Eyes that experienced horror and death. He was no longer innocent. He backed away, looking at his hands. They tensed with blood.

And Gracia still embraced and kissed him. And Maes still reciprocated. His hair grew longer. Suddenly, cracks swarmed all over his polished skin. Red blood dripped from every ghastly wound. Gracia kissed one wound, then all of them. She healed the cuts, stopping their bleeding but not their appearance. She loved him still.

But Maes still retreated. Against all this horror he smiled. Neither cruel nor chilling, the smile was just complacent. He moved backwards, breaking free of Gracia's hold. As she walked closer, he retreated farther, all but vanishing into the shadows that overcame the room. All except for that happy face! It remained and grew bigger, larger than Gracia herself. The smiling face stood before her like a wall. And all her cries were to no avail.

_"Maes!"_

_

* * *

_Gracia came awake. The area changed. Light became darkness. She felt a man touch her: Maes. They were in a bed together, but without any nakedness. Maes was as pajama-dressed as she.

"What's the matter?" Maes spoke in a tone rare these days.

Gracia rubbed her face in relief. "I'm all right," she said. "I had a nightmare…" Attempts to speak more were slow. She felt the contact end.

Maes slowly atrophied his attention. His calm also returned. "Well, in that case. It's over." He lay back to bed, ready for sleep again.

Gracia breathed. Relief? Not quite. She looked back at Maes, now independent. She laid a hand to his side. He tensed. Gracia kept to her resolve. Soon she too fell asleep.

* * *

There was grunting and groans. Gracia heard them in bed.

Too bad Maes was in the other room making such noise. It enticed Gracia to rise. The woman got up and walked out of the bedroom. She came to the main room of the apartment. It was a moderately sized place. Not like the house she lived in, but nice for the time being.

And once that limit was reached?

Gracia spotted the noisy boyfriend! Maes sat on a chair hoisting his 50-lb dumbbells. It was his morning exercise, and an hour of that; it showed by the darkened stain on his shirt. Maes had desisted from using the Gym at Headquarters; his scarred body made that decision. The hesitance showed in his being fully clothed. Still, the effect of attraction was strong for Gracia. Those bulging arms, his face wet with sweat, the lack of glasses showing his lime-green eyes. It was a tease to behold: a lousy tease.

With a gasp, Maes lowered his dumbbells. Exercise was concluded. He bore down the conclusion with exhaustion.

"Nice workout?"

The drain on his face did not deter the sharp awareness. "Yep," he wheezed, wiping his face with his shirt.

Gracia strutted close to her man. "Too tired for another workout?" She leaned behind him, expecting a reaction.

Maes faced her. Was there a spark in his eyes? "Yes. Too tired." He arose with a weighty rise. "Gotta take a shower." He trailed off. His movements, slow as they were, still differed from Gracia's frozen stance of disappointment. Once he was gone, the statue bowed her head in failure and acceptance. It had been like this for a week. Seven days had passed since Gracia abandoned her father and consummated her relationship with Maes. She was now in his apartment. The war in Ishbal had finally ended, but time remained still here. She was still a nurse at East while living here in Central. She had saved her time over the years, so her absences could make up more than a full week. But she had to come back once her absences ran out. She could transfer to the Central Military Hospital. It was all for Maes, but that need was not becoming sufficient. There were fewer excuses left. The best ones were losing their power.

That night of consummation was an example. For days Gracia glistened under the glow of lovemaking. It empowered her with a sexuality she never thought she had. But the luster was fading, and Gracia began to notice some corruption. Although the sex was intense, there was little depth from her lover. He gave no coddling or kisses. As she realized, her last night in East was a poor ringer to that other final night in East. Back then they kissed and coddled, feeling emotions intimate, secure, and wonderful. And they had their clothes on!

That was two years ago. The shower roared to her ears. Maes had wanted to wash up alone. Gracia obeyed his wishes. With a sigh, Gracia turned to fixing breakfast. She entered the small kitchen. The cupboards had been bare when she arrived. As ever a sign of trouble! She filled them with food now. On the stove her culinary talents created toast, sausage, and home fries. She then made a sandwich for Maes' lunch. He had little interest in a different food. Their first lovemaking had turned out to be their last as well. They slept together, but only in the literal sense. The Maes who loved to show off his naked physique covered himself up in every occasion. The man who joyously couldn't keep his hands off Gracia now only gave her a peck on the cheek. Any time she did try to stir his romantic fires, the man would go cold on her, laying out excuse after excuse. His scars kept him away. That she had physical contact to his afflicted body made no difference to his hesitance. In fact, that could be the trouble: By getting too close, Gracia might have driven him off.

Soon Maes came out of the bathroom. He came dressed in his uniform of white shirt, blue pants and boots. He looked at her work with a smile and sat down. He scooped the utensils and got to work. He remained silent. His mouth did nothing but eat.

Gracia thought of an idea. She remembered 'Chest' doing this act years ago. She took a sausage and began licking it. She slipped half of it into her mouth, sucking but not eating.

Maes kept to his attention. Gracia bit the sausage in defeat. "Enjoy it while you can, honey," she spoke nonchalantly. "If you want any more, I may have to ask for a transfer to Central."

"Okay," Hughes answered without any conviction. That too Gracia noted to herself. Whatever his reluctance, Maes made no protest over their living together. No arguments or screaming. All compromise. He responded to all her plans without trouble. Like he didn't care. That can be a bad thing.

But he showed some reluctance today. "You sure about this?"

Her hand pressed against his, Gracia smiled with a hope. "I am." And Maes did respond to her. His breath became heavy, his eyes focused. But it was momentary. The man lay down his fork, wiped his mouth, and got up. He went to the closet and wore his long coat with gray trimmings. "Gonna be a busy day at work."

"Again?" Gracia moped. Well, he was always a busy man, now a Major. She knew and accepted this problem for years. "We should go out one of these days, while I'm still here."

That final statement evidently fell on deaf ears. Maes kissed her on the cheek. And then he was gone.

Gracia sighed. She was doing that a lot. Everything seemed like a reenactment of her life before this week. Well, at least Maes kissed her.

From the window, she saw her fiancée enter the street. The man made a jump and a skip, greeting strangers with the warmest of greetings. That was Happy Face Hughes: So carefree and positive. But it was a mask and a cold one for Gracia. After being victimized by killing and torture, the scars to his body were little against the ones in his heart. And this time Gracia could give no medication. This was Maes' problem to solve; help can only come by his own strength. But such philosophy gave little satisfaction to the woman who loved him. His own sufferings affected her as well. She wanted to help Maes; it was her job as both nurse and girlfriend!

There was no one she could converse about this problem. General Erin was back in East. And she didn't know any of Maes' friends here. They were probably deceived by Happy Face Hughes to know anything was wrong. The only man who knew otherwise was nowhere for all she knew. And Maes seemed to want it that way. The cause for this coldness to Roy Mustang lay hidden from her. So she was all that was left to deal with Hughes. And her attempts weren't working. The failure was making her feel inadequate. Her love wasn't enough.

That can be a message for her herself. Thinking about the night her virginity ended, Gracia wondered how well a job she handled its loss. Was she actually good in bed? That was her first time and Maes seemed just as inexperienced. Did he share the love she felt when their bodies touched, or was it just sex to him? Sex without love made Gracia feel like a…

That strong cringe sent Gracia looking at her engagement ring. Its luster was going too. Her fiancée kept silent about the marriage he promised. Not a word from him. Maybe he wanted to forget the whole thing.

One thing they both forgot was the lunch. The bag remained untouched. Gracia reasoned. She would have to get it to him. Soon. Why should she stay here, all stuffed up in this apartment? She was in the nation's capital. Time for some more sight seeing!

* * *

Gracia had barely tipped the iceberg of Central City, and yet she went through familiar paths. The festive ornaments lining from Victory Day still adorned the streets. Perhaps the fighting of such a long war meant a longer celebration? If only the Rockbells had survived to see this day…

One favorite route was crossed, in a nice neighborhood. It had a house with a _For Sale_ sign. It was a two-story yellow brick place with a stone fence and a garden. A very pretty house to live in, Gracia thought. Only her view gave any proof of her interest. Nothing was said to Maes. She had no intention of buying. Sure, maybe a Major's salary was enough. But her doubts inhibited any ambition. Buying a house to live together? She didn't know if they were going to stay together!

As ever, the subject of her boyfriend provided Gracia with a new direction. It was lunchtime now. She had to go to Central Headquarters.

She got there by taxi. The building of Central Command could cover a country in itself. The giant main hall with the Armestrian banner, its crowd of blue-coated soldiers, its multi-buildings showed the spectacle of the nation. But Gracia could only let the awe go so far. She went to the Office for the Division of Investigations. Gracia had been to Maes' office before, nicely furnished with books and desks. Also nicely adorned with the secretary Miss Jensen: Blond-haired, porcelain skin, with a figure to match. Now, the description of such finery did not make Gracia intimidated!

The woman was on her thoughts as she opened the door. And it crystallized when she saw what was inside. When her eyes peered through, all the fears, frustrations, and futilities melted through her defenses. Maes and Miss Jensen both stared at her. The secretary was on his desk, her body mounted near her boss, her face lunged to his. She looked embarrassed. Maes looked shocked. Gracia had no idea of her own visual expression. The sight of two beautiful people filled her with…she had no description. Just that she wanted to get out of this office right now!

And she did so, denying the voice calling to her. "Gracia!" Not so easy to evade was the tug on her arm.

"Gracia," Hughes was anxious. "It's not what you think."

"What, that you are cheating on me? No, I don't believe that." Gracia spoke genuinely.

Maes rubbed his forehead. "She came on to me…Guess she had a crush on me."

"I believe you," Gracia was cruelly sincere. "I bet she wouldn't have gotten anywhere." That remark was genuine as well.

Maes became silent. His response was not denial, not confirmation. "Gracia, you know what I've been going through."

"Hello Major," said a passing officer.

"And hello to you," Hughes beamed his smirk. Gracia winced.

"As ever, Happy Face." Gracia fought for some sanity. And it showed her truth. It wasn't really Maes' fault. It wasn't anyone's fault. "I know. These years had changed you. And it has changed us, I'm afraid." For all her rue, the woman carried a sense of understanding in her view. "Thanks for the commitment. You made a promise to me and kept it. No matter if you changed, a promise was a promise. You stuck to it, just trying to do the honorable thing."

Maes' face fell to the guilt of the truth.

"It worked to a degree. You probably felt trapped. When dad made his overtures to me, you thought it the best time to run away. Relief! Gracia chose her father. Hooray! Then I came and snared you…and you still wanted to do the honorable thing."

"It's not…" Maes placed his hand upon his head in expected confusion. "Not entirely…"

"But honor goes so far. I'm realizing the man I loved has changed, and that I should accept that." Gracia could for being so intelligent in this conversation. "But it's a change I don't want."

"Gracia…" Hughes squealed the name pathetically.

"Can you understand what will happen? Is our future going to be like this week? What if we had a child…?" The thought sent Gracia in pause. She saw Maes equally struck. He crushed his face. It released with pleading.

"No more, Maes." Gracia's resolve was of a tired woman. "I left my father because he was a cold man. I can't waste my life on a similar relationship. And I would never put a child through that. Especially no child of mine."

The man looked very lost. He should be making some strong response. Nothing. And that was the final answer for Gracia. "I…release you from your promise." The ring came off. It dropped into Maes' palm.

And so, with weights in her entire body, Gracia resumed her departure. Did Maes grab her or shout for her? No, Gracia felt and heard nothing.

* * *

Gracia did not immediately return to the apartment. She kept her tears to herself. Not that her insides didn't cry. This week she purposely lost two of the men she loved. She could feel self-pity, but a good amount of sympathy fell upon her ex. For all his faults, Maes Hughes was a better man than any she had known. He just had problems that could not be reconciled. But she will remember him well, and the happiness they once shared.

Oh well. She was going to remain a spinster all her life. Perhaps she could speak to Aunt Anya. She remembered her response to her actions. Although a little shocked at the sudden departure, her aunt sounded pleased with her choice. Even on phone, Anya could read her like a book. And her father? That was a different story. According to her aunt, any chance of reconciliation was impossible. He said he no longer had a daughter. The consequence of that knowledge made Gracia waver between indifference and pain. But what was done is done; She should have left father years ago. Perhaps Aunt Anya wouldn't mind a guest? Maybe 'Rizzie' could be another choice as well. She probably has her hands full with Gran.

Her path made, Gracia took a cab to the apartment. There was traffic. Then a car accidentally careened in front of the cab. Nothing hit, save for the driver's temper.

"It's alright." Gracia paid her fare. She got out of the vehicle and walked the rest of the way.

And then she went to the apartment. Would Maes be there? No, Gracia had banished all thoughts of reconciliation. Evidence had shown her hopes to be fantasy. Stiff and unyielding she entered the room. Despite day, candles lit the room with its shadowy effects. Confusion swept around her in this happening. It seemed the fantasy was here. She came to the bedroom. More candles, with geraniums and roses. There on the bed was Maes. Fully dressed. "Hiya."

Gracia began to leave. "Sorry to interrupt."

"Wait a minute!" The man protested. "Please hear me out!"

The expectations were obvious, but Gracia kept her back to him for the final answer.

Maes clasped his hands together. His strong body hung like a hunchback, his head heavy like his tone. "I may sound like a broken record, but I've had a lot to think about."

"You're right," Gracia tiredly agreed.

Maes did not respond to that comment, searching for his own words to say. "What you told me was true, but there's something else. Most of my life I've been pretending to be happy. First it was to please dad with his condition. Then to please Roy. And then you. Before I knew it, the happy face was a defense to not get so close to people. To avoid pain. But I've done the act for so long I forgot who I really am."

His meditative face fell to disappointment. "But as hard as I tried, pain still found its way through the defense." His face gained shadows. "I killed people. I wondered if I was really something awful. Then I got tortured." He slowed his words for a moment. "I was bare and they tapped into me. I didn't want anything that close to me ever again."

Gracia bowed her head. She heard it all before. She turned away from the bedroom.

"But it wasn't just pain that hit my heart. You did."

In the other room, Gracia stopped. Maes didn't see her, but his words came through the wall.

"Yes, I proposed because I promised you. When your father made that scene, you're right, I escaped. I wanted to run away. But you came, I yelled at you, and then we made love. _And I say we made love!"_

He exclaimed that statement with a strength missing earlier. "That night it happened, we got really close…it was…good." He felt relieved in that saying. "I didn't know what the hell to do, but the intimacy we shared..." He sighed in relaxation. "It was really nice. The first good time I had in awhile. I guess I didn't show it."

Gracia's ears caused her indecision. Maes' tone, its warmth, its strength. She had missed that voice these many months.

"When you fell asleep, I gazed at your beauty. I wanted to thank you so much for giving me such joy. And then _it_ came back like a cold hand: I'm going to be hurt again. So I went back to the mask. I dunno what I was thinking that would do. Make you go away perhaps? Oh, I…I hated it. I hated myself for being so cold to you."

There was a minute of silence. Gracia took the apology, but still not his overtures.

"But the truth remains," He moaned, "I am afraid of being hurt."

Tears in her eyes, Gracia touched her mouth.

"But I'm afraid that I'm just going to have to let that happen."

The fear in his voice had changed to resolve. But the listener wavered. But what assurance could this give her?

"I'm tired of closing myself. Being safe and sound isn't happy no matter how much pearly whites I give." A sweet humility charged Maes. "I don't want to pretend anymore. I want to be sad, angry, moody, all the true feelings. But most of all I want to be really happy. And I really got that from you."

Maes said no more, but Gracia surrendered. She knew what she had to do. Her silence was little of use for her action, for she had removed the lower parts of her clothing. Wearing only her blouse and the underwear beneath, she tiptoed back to the bedroom. Maes came out, dejected. "Well, the least I can do is help you pack…"

Hughes froze, seeing this meaning. Then his face bloomed with determination. He tore his shirt free, spilling buttons into the air. He came running while pulling down his pants. This unfortunately served to manacle his feet, causing him to tumble right on Gracia. By luck they stood behind the sofa, hitting its cool softness.

Maes lifted himself up, and stiffened. Gracia suddenly felt the same thing. A sheet of ice seemed to block them. They broke it with a kiss.

* * *

The couch became their spot. A fringed blanket provided cover and warmth. It blanketed Gracia up to her naked neck. Her breasts felt Maes' hot breath. Her eyes beheld his chaotic expressions. His head jerked and squirmed to maintain the pressure growing inside him. He became the balloon now. Sweat lined his features, his teeth bared and sealed as the burden continued. And Gracia jerked more and more, adding more air to her man. When the explosion finally came, Maes pursed a whistle of pleasure by his lips.

Gracia eased and lowered her body, resting her wet and hot head upon her lover's damp chest. Despite the dog tag, Maes' pectorals made nice pillows. She felt his arms on her back, separated by the blanket. Her hands also made contact upon the wetness of his bare skin. For a moment the area had an atmosphere of heavy gasps, which soon lightened.

"Wow, Gracia…" Maes attempted words. In his ecstatic state "You have another skill. Is there anything you can't do?"

Gracia took the compliment, kissing his chin. She loved this man so much! All her doubts and disappointments from before became those of a different person. It was a distance she allowed. Indeed, her lover was different. This was not the haunted, cold man afraid of feelings. Not the man who skipped and grinned. She felt the Maes that suffered, but was still willing to care. This was the man she loved.

"I love you." A convinced whisper was completely audible in her close direction. She returned to face him, seeing his tired but serene face. A kiss might be inviting repetition, but so what?

Maes' arms became tighter in their embrace. It gave Gracia hope that this was compensation for all the coldness this week. He would never let her go ever again. She would never leave him again. Such promises hardened like iron on this lovely day.

And Gracia dreamed. The unbreakable wall of Hughes' smile made her attacks futile. She did not cry as she leaned her head on the wall. There had to be a way, she lamented…but the answer looked lost forever.

And then she heard beats. From the other side! With renewed hope she beat the wall again. "Maes!"

A crack came to the wall. It grew into a tree of cracks. The limit was reached. Shards broke off the wall as if they were glass. Indeed, some stabbed Gracia. A lacerated hand reached out from the hole. It remained suspended, getting long red scratches from the edges.

Gracia hesitated out of harm. But she grasped the hand, tightly holding onto it. She felt a tug. Her free hand grabbed onto the edges, sliced and adding her blood to it. Pain and frustration filled Gracia, but instead of encouraging weakness, they made her strong. She pulled Maes out, suffering the effort of it. He came out of the hole, his naked, bloodied body limp and still.

"Maes, you did it!" But Gracia's cries found no reply. Maes remained still.

Gracia mumbled. Tears in her eyes, she shut them so not to see anymore of this horrible sight. Her cheek felt a warm hand. The lids snapped open, and Gracia saw Maes, bloodied, weakened, but alive. The pleasure on his face showed no effect from his condition. "I love you."

And Gracia awoke. A nightmare had reversed to a dream. This time she awoke with no loneliness; she was lying atop of Maes on the couch. One arm rested on her back, warm, firm, and unyielding. The other clasped her hand. Her own free hand traced against his bicep. And she noted Maes looking at her. "You woke up."

"Never slept," Maes' weary eyes couldn't diminish the gleaming focus. "You sleeping on me makes it difficult. Not exactly a bad thing." He spoke with no smile, but his look of contentment made it unnecessary.

Warmed with emotion, Gracia kissed his solid chest, nipping its nipple. Her head felt combed by his human hand.

Maes beckoned his face away. "Tell you the truth, I've been up a lot these nights."

"Maes…" Gracia tried to be tender on his fears.

"Not just on what happened, but what was happening. Do you know how crazy I felt? In a different way. You sleeping next to me… I wanted to hold you, and kiss you, and love you…" His caress tightened on Gracia. "And nothing."

"That's over with," Gracia wiped his cheek. She actually believed it. She remembered the clothed night from East, and the sexual night a week ago. The best things of those nights came together on this dusky hour. It gave so much hope for her and Maes. Please let this become a step forward! They were happy! "It's over…"

"Right on the button. So, wanna still marry me?"

Gracia faced him, nodding.

Hughes became a cherub. His feet flipped into the air, shaking the sofa. He touched her head and beckoned her for another mouthing. Then he cut off. "Oh shit!" He arose from the sofa. Gracia slid to her side of the furniture, wrapped up with the covers.

"I forgot." He grinned with guilt. Gracia braced herself for the awful truth.

"I lost the ring."

The quality of this truth deflated Gracia's concern. "You did?" Her tone lacked some sincerity about that lost jewelry.

Maes bowed his head, scratching it. "When you left, I felt all mixed up. I wanted you back, but I still had the cold feet. I got so mad, I threw the ring…and lost it."

Gracia touched his scratched shoulders. She didn't care.

"Wait!" The man sat back up with an epiphany. He looked around. He tore a fringe from the blanket. He wrapped it into a loop and applied it around Gracia's finger. Then he bowed on one knee. "Gracia. The last time I did this, I gave you a real ring, and nothing else." His grasp grew strong. "You get the idea?" He had a noble look, determined and wishful. "With all my heart, and with every corny cliché support for it, I promise that I will make you so happy. Be the man, the husband, you deserve."

"You talk too much." Gracia kissed her man. He reciprocated. The separation of their faces saw closeness. Maes' eyes, somewhat dulled by his limited vision, still sparkled. They showed that the person in front of him was the precious thing in his life. It overwhelmed Gracia a little bit. She tweaked his hair.

Maes spied his follicles. "I really do need a haircut."

Maes leaned onto the sink. His mop of hair was completely soaked. It suffered more thru Gracia's cutting. All attention was on his head, not to the towel on his back. Nor for the scars it covered.

Gracia got to work. "It's a good thing I was taught this at school." Snap by snap the hair fell into the sink. Maes squirmed a little. "Stay still. I might cut you."

"I already got a buncha scars on me," Maes tried to speak. "What's one more?" Gracia stilled to this raw remark and how easy it sounded.

And then she was finished. Maes arose. With the towel he dried his hair, back to its regular short, spiky-look. His widow peak formed one big bang, which he divided into two. Then he put on his glasses. Such a pleasant mood he was in. But his closer look to the mirror gave mass to this elevated feeling. And Gracia saw the reflection to his scarred chest. Maes turned to her, suddenly morose.

And then his pectorals danced. As his crooked smile grew, Maes raised his hands to his neck, his biceps bulging. He jiggled his hips.

Such a sight did much to drain Gracia of her concern. It was a start.

Maes lowered his arms. His steps, which had been burdened of late, now skipped to Gracia. "Y'know," He breathed a wicked grin, "We should get cleaned up…" The leer on his eyes showed his intention to be an opposite nature.

"Together?" Gracia asked. She feel victim to his hug.

"No one but you."

Disappointment was conquered by commitment. Fear replaced by devotion. Love was their law tonight. As war left its ugliness in this world, Maes Hughes and Gracia Stern found some beauty with their reaffirmed love.

* * *

To be continued

Maes is on the road to recovery. What about his friendship to Roy?


	12. What about Roy?

The Woman He Loved

Chapter 12: What about Roy?

By Claudius

* * *

A sunny day lit Gracia and Maes' afternoon walk. What a difference one day can make! Ever since Maes made his renewed commitment, everything the two did became fresh and priceless. They were in love. If they acted that emotion differently- Gracia calm and reserved, Maes bouncing and active- their feelings were not. Maes leapt to a stone fence, much to Gracia's embarrassment. This must not be mistaken for humiliation. Rather it was an intense surprise that secretly encouraged such behavior. The man glowed with a vitality he had suppressed for months. Maes happily walked upon the stone fence with the ease of a dancer. "I, Maes Hughes, love Gracia Stern so much!" he shouted for the entire neighborhood to hear.

"Maes, stop it!" Gracia demanded some moderation, despite the mirth on her face.

But the dancer only repeated his overtures. "I love her! I love her!" Then he knelt down like a gargoyle on a perch, his face intimate to Gracia's. His next words were softer. "Did I mention that I love you so much?"

"Of course you did, silly," Gracia touched his cheek. "But announce once more, and I might reconsider."

"You're right," With arms as support, Maes swung his legs into the sidewalk. "Of course, of course, some things of love have to be discreet." He bounced off the fence and lurked around her. "Might I show you later, my love?"

Gracia sighed with ease. "You know, dear," She raised an eyebrow sharply, "I don't know if you're telling the truth."

"You want me to be serious?" Maes demanded. "Fine!" So he planted a passionate kiss to Gracia's mouth. He further wrapped his arms around her. "I can show you more back home."

His beloved could hardly wait for _that!_ But her eyes came onto an image beyond her mind and heart. She stood before that same vacant house again. Gracia gave the place her regular attention of interest.

"Wanna look inside?" Maes offered more to that interest. Gracia shook her head, hiding her excitement over such a prospect. "No, that's okay."

But Maes saw through her reluctant facade. "Oh, what have we got to lose?" He scooped Gracia into his arms and carried her all the way to the door. This wasn't made without protest, though perhaps she did not do enough. They came to the door. It was locked.

"Too bad," Gracia sighed.

Maes' grin grew naughty. He took out a lockpick, and stabbed it into the lock. The sight made Gracia nervous. "This is breaking and entering."

"It's not like we're stealing anything," Maes was cool to his crime, unlocking the door. Gracia wanted to turn back, but such an opportunity pressed her to go inside. The fear lessened there. The empty space added to the size of the place. The couple searched around, one more readily than the other. In separation, Gracia practically viewed every nook, cranny, and corner from top to bottom. Everything from the kitchen to the bedrooms to the living room was perfection in her eyes. Most of all, it wasn't like a museum piece, cold and distant. It had the fortune of life.

"Hey, Gracia!" Her boyfriend's voice made his approach known.

His presence set her decision. "Let's go now."

"Aren't you sure you don't want to see the whole place?" Maes joked.

"No," Gracia breathed a reluctant but resolved answer.

"You better," Maes was smug. "Since I told the owner that we're going to be living here."

The words struck Gracia. This time, surprise did not come with pain. "You mean it?"

"Why not? I noticed your goo-goo eyes the last time we came here. I wouldn't be much of a future husband if I didn't know what you wanted."

Gracia instantly hugged and kissed her man. "Hey, you don't have to be so calm about it!" He joked in his enjoyment, reaffixing his loose glasses.

But Gracia was uncertain about the reality. "But do you think we can afford it?"

"I'll try to."

Gracia smiled to the fantasy becoming real.

* * *

It took a month for the final negotiations. The house had a rival buyer, but the person quickly dropped his offer. Within that period, the couple planned for the inevitable. In the final week of that month, paint and wallpaper were decided, furniture was ordered, excitement tapped to its limits and beyond.

It was at the end of one shopping trip that Gracia came to her fiance's office. Miss Jensen the secretary had transferred to another job (with perhaps a more accessible boss), her successor a male. But the room was full of officers. As Gracia entered, these men began to disperse, led by none other than King Bradley- The Fuhrer himself! She stilled to his giant presence, as if she might wither by his very breath. His one eye had enough intense strength to give her a sense of insignificance. And still he bowed to her. "Pleased to meet you, Miss Stern. Major Hughes has told me much about you."

Hughes blushed, rubbing his neck.

Gracia didn't notice. Bradley's booming words, as soft they were, added to her vulnerability.

"I've heard you were very much against the war…" He spoke defensively.

Gracia nearly forgot herself and her nerve. It was not out of awe. Might Bradley kill her with that sword at his waist?

"If I may give you a little secret," the Fuhrer's scowl flipped into a smile. "I was against it myself. Such is man's irony." He touched Gracia's hand with a quickness she didn't predict, and kissed it. "We hope to see more of you, Miss Stern." And thus he left with his entourage. Gracia remained very still.

"Just wait 'till you tell your friends!" Maes spoke positively.

Gracia couldn't feel the importance of getting the leader of the nation's attention. She couldn't put her finger on it, but there was something off about Bradley. An anomaly that chilled her very soul. She discussed this with Maes. "I felt intimidated too," He exposed his scarred wrist. Back in school, Maes took an interest in fencing. He got very good at it. Then the Fuhrer visited one day and offered Maes a practice exercise. Bradley accidentally stabbed him in the wrist. Shortly after, Maes changed his interests. "But you get over it."

Gracia wasn't all too sure she wanted to gain such a resolve.

Irony can have the country's patriarch greet Gracia, and still have her real father do no such thing. She heard that Professor Johann Stern had made a lecture at Central. But she found this out _after_ he left, absorbing the feeling like a dress absorbed dirt. But the disowned kept her strength, helped by her fiance's words. _"I won't look back if you don't."_

If only her man followed his own advice! As much as Hughes kept a bright strength, outside forces still gave him darkness. Like her own, Maes' job can be depressing at times. He helped a lot of people, and usually got nothing in return. Worse were his failures to convict soldiers who had no right to be around civilization. The government still needed them for the future. As Maes recounted to Gracia, the militaristic country was going to keep its imperialism. Ishbal would not be the last nation to suffer. Gracia heard his sorrow sometimes in day and sometimes night, when even sleep couldn't protect him from his experiences. How he would abruptly awake, sweaty and humbled by his nightmares!

His body was a further reminder that the past cannot be easily forgotten. But most of the time, once Hughes spoke his trouble, he shrugged off the negativity and put on a smile and talked of better things. Just because mankind wasn't going to enjoy a happy future did not mean he and Gracia couldn't enjoy theirs.

And his fiancee took this in stride. Better Maes gave his sadness to her, than hide it under a happy face. That way, she knew when his happiness was real.

* * *

Moving Day finally arrived. Maes was able to get some muscle to get the furniture inside; all courtesy of Central Command. A Major had a lot of connections. Especially obvious in this 'muscle' was Lieutenant Alex Armstrong. He happened to be an Alchemist, like he-who-shall-not-be-named. He was completely built and brawny, and proud of it as well, spending several moments flexing his physique, speaking about his ability to get his superior's house furnished. Not that Gracia was interested in such physical detail. Okay, maybe she was a little, but not enough to threaten Maes' recovering ego.

And like her fiance, the man's bravado also hid sadness. Maes commented in secret that Armstrong had fought in the Ishbal war; he was forced to use his Alchemy to kill people. It became all too much for the poor man, forcing him to be transferred back home for emotional trauma. He had been languishing at his family estate until Maes recruited his assistance. Gracia felt sorry for the man. Armstrong's profession reminded her of He-who-shall-not-be-named. She wondered if Maes thought of him sometimes. But he gave little evidence, proving faithful to his antipathy for a man he once called his best friend.

Hours were spent moving the chairs, couches, dressers, lamps and items into the house. After Gracia served the men sandwiches, the great moving army departed. Now alone, the couple came to relax. Maes whisked by her, pulling the both of them into a dance. It was a short twirl, but a lively one. With a satisfied gleam in his eye, Maes kissed her neck, whispering to her ear. "We got some time to kill…" He pulled off his black shirt. A smiling Gracia rubbed his sculptured abs with resolve. Time to relax…later.

The door banged. The mood was killed. Maes quickly pulled on his shirt and answered it. Two couples with children. "Hello, we're the Karlens. We live across the street."

"And we're the Collinses," said the other group. "We live next door."

"Come in, come in!" Hughes spontaneously made his greeting. More families entered as well. Despite the impromptu gathering, the couple was cordial to their new neighbors. To Gracia and Maes' delight, many of these families had children. As all ice melted by their presence, Maes Hughes and his future wife were made welcomed. Gracia almost felt swamped by the many wives she talked to. But her own talents as a cook managed to give her a foothold in the conversations. It seemed Maes had an easier time laughing with the husbands. It was his talent. No stone heart could ever stay cemented before his personality.

When the last housewarming guest had left, the couple saw their house overrun by cakes and gifts. Again they were alone.

"That worked out," Gracia was humble about the success.

"What do you expect, with a pretty woman like you?"

Gracia kissed him in respect. Now, about the cakes…

* * *

From a recommendation by Dr. Eamonn Holtz, who had private practice at Central, Gracia transferred to the Central Military Hospital. It meant a demotion in rank, but she quickly settled to the work. By irony her job would be temporary; she would quit when she got married. But that end would take a long time, more than a year. With the new house, Maes wanted to gather funds for the wedding. Gracia's modest proposal that it was trivial was brushed aside. Oh well, once her profession of modesty ended, Gracia reveled on what the event would be like.

Of course, bliss (present or future) didn't distract her from work. And like Maes, she had busy work, sometimes extending to night. No problem for Maes. He visited her and gave her food, in more ways than one; there were special rooms for that kind of eating.

She was glad to see her friend Solaris "Chest" Argeidan again. The lusty senior nurse was still single. She was happy about Gracia's developments, or as much an envious woman can be without looking like a bitch. Gracia marveled at how lucky she became. Poor Rizzie made her mistake for marrying too soon, and "Chest" had no man. But she, the virginal frump, was enjoying her love life after a slow developing courtship.

And how strange was this new level of her relationship! Case in point: a book "Chest" gave her. A rather private book that showed ways a couple can _know_ each other. And these new ways went beyond the usual horizontal dance! Gracia was appalled by some of the descriptions. She showed it to Maes anyway.

"Ew!" He spoke with disgust, and fascination. "Do you think…?"

"No!' snapped Gracia. Then, a second later. "Maybe?"

This ambiguous feeling to sex was new for Gracia. What strange influences she felt being intimate! It was like a different persona: wild and wicked. Such gestures she performed! She remembered licking Maes' breast nipple. Such thought was shocking during treating patients or shopping. But when the two of them had sex, the gesture felt so natural and right. Gracia would never do such things at a party, at a get-together, or in general public. But privacy cast out such inhibitions. And Maes was no different; his innocent personality contrasting with the displays of intense carnal hunger he put on her person. She enjoyed it, and Maes probably felt the same way. If only…

Once upon a time, these relations were limited to after the marriage. Gracia grew up with that ideal. To consummate their love on the wedding night, the beginning of a life together! That expectation was gone for her. True, the change of plan was not regretted. But that turning point was once a fantasy of hers.

* * *

A few weeks passed. One day saw Gracia leaving work for her new house. Maes was making a short visit before a busy night, so time for them to make the minutes count! So she hurried in her journey. At one corner out of nowhere she bumped into a soldier. She could tell by his blue uniform. The man handled her like an enemy, making her impact with the wall. It hurt. Gracia reacted, strongly pushing the man back. "Why you…" The resentment shattered into surprise. "Roy?"

Indeed, the attention was equal. The man's strong grasp faded and released. Heightened by a gray pale mask that once carried so handsome a face! Roy's black eyes dragged with a restless haunting that appeared to be a long affliction. "G-Gracia…" His answer showed his slow recognition. "I'm sorry." The mention of that word from his mouth could shatter a building with its conviction.

"It's alright, I'm okay," Gracia was equally apologetic, brushing herself off. "So…Roy. How have you been?"

Stupidly blind question gets an equally stupid and shallow answer. "I'm fine." An attempt at being calm only made the usually suave and mature Roy sound like a scared child. "You look nice."

He said a compliment for her? This is definitely a different Roy Mustang! Gracia brought her answer in display. "I'm engaged." She flashed her string ring. Let the insults begin…

It made Roy tense uncomfortably. "Hughes?"

Gracia carried on this awkward acknowledgment. "Yes…Maes and I are engaged." She had expected Roy to be cold about his best friend. But just as Maes' own chilly feelings about the matter was unusual of him, Roy was no different. "Well, good for him." His wasted look showed respect. The warmth didn't last long, as he quickly ended this meeting. "Well, goodbye." And he made good on his departure before a protest could be made. The transfixed Gracia slowed her journey home.

* * *

Major Hughes was in for it now. The enemy had swarmed upon him like ants over a dog. One pinned himself upon his back. Another grabbed his legs, with his arms in similar restraint. His enemies only laughed and snickered at his plight.

"Children," cried Gracia on the street. "Can you please release my boyfriend?"

She handed a bag to the children. "I bought you some cookies, now take them and run along."

The boys excitedly abandoned their male charge, heading for the sweets and leaving with fond farewells. "Goodbye, Mr. Hughes! Bye Gracia!"

Gracia knelt to the fallen. "Condolences for the defeated?"

Maes adjusted his glasses, then wiped the grass stains off his shirt, smiling in his suppressed defeat. "That'll do." He arose, his lips dancing upon her mouth, breaking ever reluctantly.

As the two entered the house, Gracia stepped upon the forbidden word. "Did you know Roy is back?"

Maes's reply "No," was short with no sign of continuation. His next words were hardly encouraging. "Y'know honey, I'm glad to see you, but the office calls."

Gracia's thoughts were not on the wasted time. "I understand."

As Maes put on his two-piece uniform coat, he got an embrace and a kiss. "Don't wait up for me."

"I won't." Gracia took the hint, temporarily. Considering she was opening up to him, the least he could do was follow suit. She was going to have to try harder.

* * *

The next day saw Maes finally spending the night. He had company in the form of paperwork. It arrayed the big bed they bought, a nice piece with brass headboards and a plushy comforter of red. The color was a memory of that bordello bed, where they almost had their consummation two years ago. Maes used much of it writing his reports. The man had tried to separate his work at Headquarters from his life at home. But today was a most busy day, and rather than stay at Central Command all night, Hughes took some homework with him. Gracia understood. The only strangeness was Maes doing his work butt naked. Maes was a nudist at heart, a habit that he was beginning to embrace again since that torture. If exposing his scarred body before Gracia gave him anxious pause, he overcame it.

Not so easily conquered was Gracia herself. She leaned against his body with a coquettish influence. "Maes…" her finger drew upon his tattooed bicep like a brush. She caught his glance, and his crooked smile. Maes closed the papers, stacked them on the table, added his glasses to the stack, and rolled into the covers. "Manipulator," he remarked, half accusing, half pleased. Within an hour, Maes pumping love into Gracia led them to the edge of the bed. Peace soon came. Maes rubbed his stomach, looking like a child enjoying good cookies, complete with the _Mmmm_ sounds. A bizarre manner. Then again, sex is not table manners.

Suddenly, Maes tumbled out. The sheets he dragged down got caught with Gracia, pulling her down with him.

"That really brings the house down!" Maes laughed at the unexpected position.

He spread his legs, the sheet stretching like a tent.

Gracia laughed as well.

Maes winced a little. "Cheers to number thirty-nine!"

"You've been counting?" Gracia snickered at this unusual habit.

"We've been virgins for almost a quarter of our lives," Maes stared his logic down at her. "Gotta make up for the lost time." He gasped with triumphant relief, than moaned to a pain. "Guess I pulled something in the effort."

"Oh, poor dear. Lie on your stomach," Gracia offered her aid. Maes got back on the bed, exposing his scarred back to her. The sight only bothered Gracia in a spiritual matter. A reminder to how much pain was within Maes. A lot of it he still was unwilling to open.

Gracia got to work massaging his back with tenderness. Hughes sighed in relief. "More good."

"There's some real tenseness here." Gracia objectively picked at the skin around his back. Be it muscles or lash scars, her hands felt everything. She also noticed a white-hair in his black head. Maes was not yet in his mid-twenties!

"Y'know, nurse," Maes cheerfully added. "You're not allowed to socialize with patients."

"Then make an honest woman out of me," Gracia breathed upon his neck.

"Will do!"

"Speaking of honesty…"

"Not now," Maes rolled his face on the bed. "Can't think straight. Must be the sex." He lifted his head to kiss her arm.

But Gracia continued. "About Roy…"

"Not now, dear," Maes rolled over, making a hungry kiss on Gracia's hand.

Gracia threw her hand away. "I've seen him, Maes," She spoke her experience as direct and to the point. "He looks troubled."

Maes sat up with a growing determination. "Gracia, don't. The matter is closed. Licked and sealed." He proceeded to lick her shoulder.

But Gracia shied away in alienation. "This is new of you."

Maes lost interest, falling back into bed. "So what?" He frustratingly rubbed his face. "You've already seen a lot of new in me."

"But you still cared," Gracia turned back, her face loving and tender. "No matter the pain you got in body and soul," her hand touched the middle of his warm chest. "_This_ always came through."

"Stop with the cliches already!" Maes looked away, impatient to what looked like a losing battle. "Did you know he gave me a feather?"

"He did?"

Hughes' silence was reluctantly momentary. "It happened shortly after…I got these 'tattoos.' Roy was with the rescue crew. He killed some of the torturers. At the hospital, he asked me to come with him to Ishbal. I refused. I already had a couple of deaths on my hands; no point to catch up with _his_ record." He snarled that remark. "So, he gave me a sign of cowardice. That's that."

Gracia sympathized with her fiance's hurt, but not its justification. "So he blew you off. I blew you off a couple of times too. That sure didn't stop you."

Maes faced her. "I've certainly proved myself to you." A wicked grin grew from the frown. Gracia piercing eyes stopped his seductive attack cold. Maes gave up on the act, turning aside.

"Okay, so let me get this straight," Gracia gave deadpan reaction. "Maes Hughes breaks his back helping some nobody, but when it comes to his best friend, _forget it!_ That makes sense."

Maes sulked. "He doesn't want my help."

"If not want, what about need?" Gracia was now planting herself upon his shoulder. "You haven't seen Roy. He looks like the soul had been torn out of him," her voice grew with concern. "He looked…just like you back then. He needs help, and if his best friend won't do it, then who will?"

Maes paused and moaned. The moonlight made his compassionate eyes glitter. He said nothing.

Still unfinished, Gracia tried another attack. "And I made that apple pie just for him…"

"Fine!" Maes loudly sighed. "Fine, I'll give it to him." He sat up and confronted her with a contemptuous glare. "Geez, Gracia, you can be so meddlesome."

"Thanks," Gracia smirked. She kissed him passionately. "Now give me number forty, lover."

Contempt quickly faded from her lover.

* * *

Gracia awoke in a fine mood. She shared the bed alone. Maes' absence meant something, and this time not in a bad way.

On this free day, Gracia waited the hours for her man. Finally, before the sun began the setting, Maes returned. He looked tired, but no regret or rue existed on his face. Nor did any coldness show in his display of affection. "Gracia, this morning I missed out on the goodbye hug and kiss, so here's double." He lengthened his embrace and kiss. He seemed in a good mood. Gracia helped off his coat.

"You were right, Gracia," Maes scratched his hair. "Roy looked awful."

Gracia became hopeful to his awakened sympathy.

"He spends most of his time holed up in his apartment. What a mess the place looked. And the stench," he wiggled his sculptured nose.

"So, you two talked?" Gracia asked prospectively.

Hughes surrendered to some somber feelings. "For hours. Quite a story," He rubbed his head. "Boy, I'm bushed. I haven't sleep much last night."

Gracia understood. "I'll fix some dinner."

There came a knock at the door. The lethargic Hughes jumped to it, with Gracia following. The opening revealed Roy Mustang. His face seemed changed. Just a little.

"I thought to reconsider your invitation," he mumbled his wish.

_Invitation?_ Gracia quickly realized what happened in the meeting. "Of course, come in."

"T-Thank you," Roy found it hard to talk. He found it hard to make movement, not to mention consciousness. His posture broke and he toppled into the arms of his best friend. Maes lifted the man, and walked up the stairs. Gracia met up with the two via a different stairway to upstairs. They took the guest room, where Maes lay Roy on the bed. Gracia got to work removing his coat and boots. In this case, however, she let the patient keep his clothes on.

"What's the prognosis, doc?" Maes asked with a heavy concern.

"Just exhaustion," Gracia tucked covers over the man. "He needs a lot of bed rest."

The knowledge sent Maes to a relaxing drop to the chair. "No kidding," His calm was not soothing. "Considering what he's been through."

Gracia knew that experience all too well. She left the two friends and fixed some liver and onions. She took a plate up to Maes, still in the guest room. He remained stuck to his seat, looking upon his sleeping friend with a vigilance that would not break unless by his own decision. Such friendship, Gracia thought. Suddenly, an important memory struck her in how familiar this scene looked to her eyes.

Maes came hard on himself. "I was such a fool. All these weeks and I was too stubborn to say 'Hiya.'"

Gracia touched his shoulder, ready to give support. "What matters now is that you are here."

Maes didn't seem to listen, thinking about something else. "I worshiped the guy, followed him everywhere. I must have been so pathetic."

"Nonsense. You were his friend."

"Yeah, but it was another thing too," Maes' face captured a serenity that he only showed Gracia, or so she originally thought. "Even as a kid I could tell he was somebody. He blazed like some torch, destined for glory or something."

Gracia felt a little jealous.

"Oh, don't mistake me, Gracia," Hughes apologized, grasping her hand. "He's my friend. Just that."

Gracia nodded.

The man continued. "When I learned he was going to the military, I had to follow him. I fought my father tooth and nail, and I worked my butt off getting skinny. I gave Roy quite a shock. I bet he was a little jealous that I turned into such a handsome guy."

Gracia rolled her eyes to that possibility.

"He had such dreams. Then reality stepped in." Maes' glow faded, replaced by a tired pragmatism worn by a similar experience. "His Alchemy was to help people. Instead he used it to kill. It didn't matter if his victims were soldiers or not, he followed orders like a good soldier." His face snarled with anger; not for Roy. "I blamed him for failing. I couldn't accept he was as normal as me, stuck in a lousy situation." His free hand became a fist unable to hit anything. "We did as we were asked, never doubting the sense of the orders." His fury dwindled to a heavy guilt that bowed his head. "But it was probably worse for him. He really didn't have anyone to comfort him. Y'know, Roy actually tried to blow his brains out?"

Gracia wished she did not hear that incident. Roy's action could have been Maes' fate. He might have succeeded. Her hand grew tighter by his binding touch.

"When I went to see him, I wanted to drop off the pie and leave," Maes admitted. "But when I saw his face, I knew I couldn't leave him where he was. I have to help him." Maes sighed, but his profile grew strong and determined. He rose up.

"Roy has a plan. He wants to rise up into the ranks. He wants to reach a position where he will no longer obey any order ever again. Where he can finally end the wars and the corruption of this country!"

Gracia could see those words become Maes' as well. "But that would mean…"

"Yep, becoming Fuhrer."

Some ambition, Gracia thought.

"He wants to bring a better world." Maes spoke of that desire with a fascination, a bright ambition on his eyes. "But he's going to need help. So I'll stay close to the higher-ups. With everything I discover I will push him up in the ranks."

And Gracia made no other reply. Indeed, she could not speak of her own view to such an undertaking, or its consequences. She released her hand from his. "I'm going to freshen up."

Gracia followed through with her declaration. The shower's force shared power with this terrible knowledge now hers to consider. This came to darker thoughts for Roy. Why did he have to snag Maes into his mess? Did he expect Maes to follow him like a good dog at the snap of his fingers? No matter what he suffered, Roy's burden was his alone. Not for Maes to share! He didn't deserve it. Roy killed countless people in Ishbal. Maes was way more innocent. He only took two lives! Two…lives…

That's better? This was not a comparison worth any comfort. Sanity calmed Gracia. Burdensome, problematic, compassionate sanity. She remembered how Maes suffered and still suffered. Now, Roy was giving him a chance for both of them to atone. And she acted like a bitch. How selfish she can be sometimes!

This burdensome acceptance carried her enrobed self out of the bathroom. Maes was in the hall, coming out of the guest room with a hesitance.

"Maes?" Gracia spoke, apologetic.

Maes' priority suddenly changed. No further words came before the embrace they made. "Oh Gracia! I'm sorry. I had no right to decide without telling you first."

Gracia heard the allowance given to her. "No, it's fine. What can I expect less from you? He's your friend."

He read her fears with a soothing comfort. "It'll be okay. This plan is our secret. I'll use my happy face. No one will ever know."

Gracia didn't see her lover's reassuring face. She saw the possible distance created by this goal. "It will take a lot of time. But we've been through a lot already. I'll wait for you."

"Now quit that, Gracia!" Maes's eyes peered to her with stern commitment. "I'm not sacrificing my future happiness for Roy...Boy, that sounded wrong!" He scratched his temple for a better wording. "I'm not giving you up. You're the anchor to my identity, my sanity. I need you to keep me from getting lost with the clown face. I want to spend my life with you. And I'm beginning that now, not after Fuhrer Mustang makes his inauguration speech."

Gracia embraced Maes' hopes.

"You and I are engaged and soon to be married," Maes rubbed his cheek against his love. "And I'm keeping it that way. Please don't sacrifice yourself, Gracia." His hug grew tighter. "I don't think I'd have the strength to do anything if you aren't here for me."

"I wasn't planning to sacrifice myself." Gracia could read Maes' mind. Whatever problem Roy suffered, Maes would help him recover. And she will help Maes.

Maes revolved Gracia into a twirl. "We might have to put the family plans on hold, though."

Gracia's face tensed. She read through Maes' objective words. If Roy was going to change the country, it would mean dealing with those who wanted to keep the status quo. There will probably be opposition, and not very nice ones.

"Of course!" Gracia agreed. "I don't want to rush things. I'm already dealing with the big step of matrimony. Let's enjoy ourselves before we settle down. Who wants children anyway?"

She lied, of course.

* * *

The next morning, Gracia awoke with the heavy thoughts of what she may sacrifice for Roy's dream.

_Children._ This was probably the first time that subject came seriously to her. And now the subject became distant. Gracia wanted children. And she was sure Maes wanted them too. His denial was less of selfish arrogance and more altruism. Did they have the right to bring a kid in a world like this?

The sounds of shower rang in her ears. It didn't come from their bedroom's bathroom. Maes must have not wanted to awaken her. Gracia got up. She should check on Roy first, but the siren of the shower seduced her. Maes must have been very worried, and he went to bed late. Time to lessen that worry…

Gracia danced to the bathroom, clothes coming off her in the flight. Instantly she opened the curtain. Lustfully she admired her man's wet black hair, his clenched buttocks, his very…smooth, unmarked back…and his round head whose black eyes peered at her nakedness with sudden vulnerable confusion, which made this the most humiliating moment of her life at which point Gracia gasped, closed the curtains, clothed herself and ran out the door like some ravished woman.

The front door sounded open. "Honey!" came Maes' voice downstairs

Gracia raced back into the bedroom. Quickly she grabbed on her nurse outfit.

She heard Hughes enter. "Honey?" he spoke softly.

"Oh, Maes!" Gracia put her nurse habit over her wet hair. "Where have you been?"

"Just went out and took a walk in the neighborhood." Hughes smiled. "Oh did you know Roy woke up?"

"Oh really?" She snapped to her feigned sympathy. "How's he feeling?"

"Still grumpy and gaunt."

"Well, I'll see him later," Gracia hurriedly finished her uniform. "I've got to go to work now." She kissed him.

Hughes embraced her. "But that won't be until nine. Stay awhile."

"No! Early the better!"

Maes' enthusiasm faded. "Okay." Getting his kiss, Gracia sped to the stairs. Unfortunately, her eyes fell on the half-opened bathroom door. From there, Roy watched her. Gracia shot him a dark look demanding absolute secrecy and went her way.

* * *

Gracia's day was plagued, and not just by the injuries and death. Maes didn't visit her at lunch. Did that mean he knew? Did Roy tarnish her by saying she came on to him? It was just a mistake! She thought Maes was in the shower, not Roy! She made these countless thoughts as the hours dragged on like snails. Eventually, Gracia returned home. She opened the door. She entered the hall. And in the living room was Roy and Maes talking to each other. Roy was dressed in shirt and pants this time.

"Gracia!" Maes changed his priorities and embraced and kissed his fiancée. Secrecy was maintained, much to her relief. "Oh hello, Roy!" She elated her voice discreetly.

Roy became a gentleman to her, giving her every courtesy. Was it because he felt guilt over seeing his best friend's girlfriend in the raw? Or maybe not guilty at all…

"How's work at the hospital?" Maes asked.

"Busy and bloody," Gracia kept her look to Roy. He suddenly went pale.

He quickly changed it. "T-Thank you, Gracia," he said. "Maes told me you put him up to this. That must not have been easy for you…considering our past."

"No problem." Gracia acted just as courteous. "You can…stay as long as you like."

"Too long for me," Roy was humble. "A little bit of Maes goes a long way," he made it half-joke, half-endearment. "You, however, are stuck with him."

So the rest of the day went on as the three discussed things that had nothing to do with war and death. Maes initially acted as peacemaker, although the role became unnecessary; Despite the uneasy memory of the morning, Roy and Gracia hid it well. Roy especially, considering the onslaught of Maes' collection of embarrassing stories. "And then the dame splashed her drink into his face," Maes enacted the gesture. "I was at Roy's side, and I told the dame off. '_And you know what, lady? Roy faked all his orgasms!'"_

Gracia could barely contain her laughter. Roy contained whatever was in him.

"Yes, nice of you to say that." Roy was deadpan. "You always made awkward situations worse."

A glint of calculation sparked from Maes' eyes. "So shall I do the same to this morning's awkward situation?"

Mirth stopped. Breathing stopped. Movement stopped. Maes took off his glasses and cleaned them. His eyes were exposed to the two, seeing its lucidity. "Yep, I was actually downstairs when I saw Gracia charging out of the bathroom. I could have run upstairs and thrown you out in your birthday suit, Roy. But I decided to fake an outside jog."

Emotions were the only things in motion for the fiancée and best friend. Guilt and remorse, held back by secrecy, now came out. Because Roy and Gracia were not weak-willed people, they didn't beg, cringe, or kneel for forgiveness. Save that one as a final alternative!

"I thought it was you!" Gracia pleaded.

"It was an accident, Maes." Roy confessed.

"I know that," Maes restored his glasses. He didn't seem offended. Gracia knew better. "You didn't know Roy woke up. It was a harmless accident. I don't really think we should make some distance because of it. We've had wars made for lesser reasons."

Gracia felt eased. And did Roy betray a smile just now?

Then Maes gave Roy a different look. "But if you ever see my beloved's raw bod ever again," his tone abandoned passivity and understanding, "Or lay a hand on her, either romantic or violent, I will kill you. Hear me, _kill you_!"

Again, all sound became mortal in the room. Still Roy kept his composure. "Agreed." He said with the right amount of conviction with equal amount lightness to support his promise.

Happy-faced again, Maes patted his friend's shoulder. "Say hello to the future Fuhrer, honey!" He then thumbed to himself. "And the one who will raise him up."

Gracia did not share the bright enthusiasm.

Maes then yanked Roy to the basement door. "So, Roy, wanna spar?" He drew Roy down the steps, with Gracia following them. The grim area was spacious, a lot hidden by the shadows. The only furniture was an array of dumbbells, weights, and mats. "I've decided to work out in private." Maes explained, unbuttoning his shirt.

For this sparring Roy was reluctant. "I don't know about this."

"My friend," Maes removed his socks. "If you're going to become the next Fuhrer, you got to be fit for the struggles ahead. Look on the bright side: at least you don't have to kill me."

Roy scowled at such a lousy joke, but he unbuttoned his shirt. This undressing suddenly halted, by Roy's frozen sight of Maes stripped-and-striped torso. "Those scars. They still haven't healed?"

"I'm afraid they're here to stay," Maes was more interested rotating his arms, twisting his waist, and bending his knees. "Don't let that fool you, Roy. I can still kick your ass."

Roy breathed again. "You wish." He bared his torso, nicely muscled if a little too lean.

Maes shot a glance at Gracia, and flexed. Roy rolled his eyes in response. They came to the stances.

Maes charged. "Let's see what four years have made of you!"

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Gracia applied the anesthetic to her fiance's sore cheek. He winced in reaction. "Not so hard!"

Roy served his behalf of pain. His attempts at movement led to reels with groans.

"Roy," Maes tried to speak, "you've gotta stop relying solely on your alchemy."

"Don't act so superior, Maes," Roy snapped, before he felt some snaps of his own. Gracia handed both men hot water bottles uncharacteristically filled with a different temperature. The bruises on Roy's body were small, showing the clearness of his body. In fact, for these four years, Roy suffered less scars than his best friend. Physical ones.

"Well, it looks like no bones were broken in your attempts to prove your manliness," Gracia took the moral highpoint. "Just like old times. You boys get hurt, and I have to help you." This was a situation 'Chest' would kill for. Then again, she probably wouldn't want the angst that came with these handsome and buff men.

"Lucky I have a nurse for a future wife!" Hughes gave his praise. He pulled Gracia into an embrace, despite the cringing and groans.

Roy grabbed a glass of water.

Gracia half-smiled. "A nurse who might put you in the hospital. Quote Sara Rockbell." Sadness felled her smile. But as quick the memory of that woman's demise came to her mind, her ears sooner heard a shattering. Gracia noticed Roy and his red hand that once held a glass. This told her a lot. She had stepped on something. And she had no choice but to see it through. With a calm but unflinching tone, she asked the question. "Roy, did you know the Rockbells?"

"Honey," Maes interrupted. "Can you get me some more…"

"Maes, I'm not going to be ignorant anymore." She pressured herself to learn this awful truth. "Tell me Roy. What happened?"

Roy's face returned to the deadness of a day ago. "Their clinic treated both sides of the war. But it became a ground for Ishbalan resistance. My superiors ordered it destroyed."

Gracia tried to breathe. The reason did not change her desire to understand why the government did it. But then this country had a lot to answer for.

"I was there," Roy continued on when he should not. "They came to me, Dr. Rockbell and his wife, asking what was happening, demanding me to stop it. I…couldn't set them on fire…but they were the enemy…So I shot them. Dead."

Gracia did not weep, though she covered her face for comfort. She hid from this Flame Alchemist. This murderer of good people…and maybe her murderer, if she joined that doomed clinic. She looked at Maes, who suddenly carried the same eyes as Roy. The same haunted look he gave her years ago.

Roy grabbed for his shirt. "I think…I should go."

"Roy," Gracia gritted her teeth.

"No," Roy shrugged away in departure. "I don't want your pity." His face marked with self-condemnation. "I can't be punished by this government. I can't even punish myself, though I've tried."

Gracia faced him woman to man. She showed understanding. Roy ignored it. Nor was he alert to Gracia's knee smashing into his groin. With a yelp, the Flame Alchemist fell to his knees, clutching his wounded manhood. Maes squeezed his legs uncomfortably, as if the pain linked him as well.

Before her beaten victim, Gracia was dominant. "You got your punishment now, Roy!" she calmly toned. "Happy?"

Maes was sympathetic, offering the water bottle. "Here, Roy. I think you need this more than I do right now."

Gracia gave her own sympathy, giving her hand before the fallen. "Now get back up."

Roy stared wary at her gesture. But he raised his good hand and grasped hers. He slowly arose despite his pain.

"That's better," Gracia spoke coldly to Roy. "I hate what you did."

Roy remained unmoved.

"But not you." Gracia applied a handkerchief to his bloodied hand.

Maes joined in, one hand with his fiancee's, another on Roy's shoulder.

"Each of us have been through a storm," Gracia spoke with strength and kindness. "Some had it worse than others. And there probably are more storms to come. But I do know this can't be handled alone. Together, I hope we can weather the storms that come our way."

Roy looked welcomed.

* * *

Gracia served dinner, by means of vegetables (She felt cooked meat might be wrong for Roy). As evening became late, Gracia was in the bedroom readying for sleep. She was brushing her long brown hair. A daily routine, her convictions toward it were somewhat diverted by her present thoughts on Roy's ambition and how it will affect their lives as well. She wandered into the halls to see the men again. She picked up their voices from the other bathroom.

"Don't you have your own bathroom?" said Roy.

"Hey, Roy, no way you're sharing my bedroom with Gracia!"

"That's not what I meant!" Roy grumbled his voice.

With discretion as her shield, Gracia spotted the two. Maes was in his pajama pants and an opened robe brushing his teeth in the mirror. Roy dressed full-bodied in his sleepwear, brushing his teeth away from his reflection.

Gracia leaned against the shaded wall to avoid being spotted.

"Starting tomorrow," Maes spit into the sink. "I'm going to look up some officers who can assist you more closely."

"I need the best, Maes. Gifted in their abilities, their courage, and their loyalties."

"Not to mention lacking the kill-happy factor?" Maes spit out again.

"Death may be an option," Roy's voice steeled itself. "But only as a final one. Not because somebody orders it."

"Sure, Roy. So how about we change the subject?"

Roy obeyed. "Settling down so soon?"

"We've got the wedding set a year-and-a-half from now, Roy. Not soon enough."

"I wish you could think more into this. Marriage is pretty final."

"Is that a warning, oh-Mr.-Ladies-Man?" Maes' voice grew playfully confrontational.

"Yes, Virgin Freak of the Class of '06. At least you could have dated some women before Gracia. Get an idea on relationships for the better."

"Roy…" Maes' voice also showed steel. "There aren't that many sexy, beautiful, and smart women out there who don't mind sharing their bed with a murderer, or who'd get fleshy with a human zebra like me without vomiting. Gracia's all that and more. I'm not settling for her. She's settled for me."

Gracia became a little mixed on whether to be sad or happy by such respect.

Roy came a little tardy in response. "You have a point."

"Sorry Roy. It's just that when someone speaks even a little bad about Gracia, I get cross. Geez, it's rather good, you know? Finally letting my feelings out!"

"It's new to me too. You've really changed, Hughes. So…does Gracia really have no problem with me?"

"If she did, then how can she still love me?"

Roy sighed. "So how is she in bed?"

"Strictly confidential. But it's something that makes me hap-py!"

Gracia decided her spying was enough, so she returned to the bedroom. She got into bed.

Maes entered the room. "Just freshening up dear," He pulled off the robe and got under the covers. He sighed with relaxation. "Well, we got a whole lot of work tomorrow." He removed his glasses.

Gracia kept to herself. "Maes, I'm sorry about what happened this morning."

"Don't be," Maes touched her hand. "Besides, any anger I had I spent on Roy in our match," He massaged his bluish cheek.

"About that threat you made to Roy…if I had accepted that job at the clinic."

"I know." Maes tightened to the possibility. "And you know what I might have done because of it."

"No," Gracia got closer. "It didn't happen. Why must we worry about what didn't happen?"

Maes blinked his eyes. He nodded.

"Maes, I would never want you to lose what makes you so wonderful a person."

"_You,_" Maes kissed her. "So…are you really okay about me helping Roy?"

_Will he stop questioning me?_ The woman mentally answered. If he keeps on, she might give a different decision. "At first I wasn't sure, but now I am. This is a mad world, where innocents die for patriotism, and murder is praised by promotion. If Roy means to change it, then it's the right decision."

"Yeah it is. I really don't have any other choice. A much better man, one who didn't screw up like I did, would have given Roy his marching orders. But I'm not better."

"Wrong," Gracia refused Maes' pessimistic self-opinion. "The better man helps his friends."

Maes kissed her cheek. "Roy may be my best friend. But you rank higher."

Gracia smiled, than she adjusted her pillow for bed. "You can become Fuhrer yourself."

"What? And spend all my days at the desk, not giving you the time of day? Nor doing something like this…" he nibbled her shoulder. "I'm afraid I'm a little too selfish. Let Roy get all the chores and responsibility."

Gracia paused. His signals were there, and welcoming. But…"You want to do it tonight?"

Hughes paused as well. "Anything the matter?"

"Well, aren't we doing this too much? I mean, I once dreamed of our wedding night, back when I still was a virgin. It's too late for that, no regrets though," she cut off what sounded like a sad disappointment. "Can't we make that night a little special?"

Maes' face widened with understanding…and confusion. "So…you want to quit sex until after the wedding?"

Gracia nodded, not quite readily, for all her resolve.

"For a year and a half?!" Even if Maes' tone in that reply was quiet and understanding, the words still had its effect on Gracia. She didn't really put a lot of thought into this plan! "Good point there, Maes. How about a year before the wedding?" She rubbed his shoulder with a freer expression. "We still have some months left."

Her fiance's frozen expression melted with a crooked smile. "Sure, I can wait. I still got you." He innocently kissed her. "But for right now…" He dug his hands under the covers. "We got a whole lot of work tonight."

Gracia rolled her eyes to the repetitious, but satisfying work. She pulled off her gown, lying herself against Maes' chest. "Do you think we'll ever get tired of it?"

By now Maes had thrown his pajama pants out of the bed. "Roy's going to long before we do." Now, the two of them touched each other with their nakedness. Maes draped Gracia's body with the comforter. Then, his hands clutching her shoulders with gentleness, the two began kissing less innocently.

And Roy Mustang suffered more sleepless nights.

* * *

To be continued

Maes Hughes' visit to Roy was depicted in _Fullmetal Alchemist_ Episode 25: "Words of Farewell." For the two friends' POV on this visit (according to this author), read both chapters of _Memories of a Best Friend._


	13. Until Death Do Us Part

The Woman He Loved

Chapter 13: Until Death Do Us Part...

By claudius

* * *

Evening came on this summer day of 1910. Such a setting might as well be an omen, thought Gracia Stern. She had been walking alone for an hour. This climaxed at a park bench. What had happened? Nothing much, except that her engagement was over. _Her engagement was over._ That sentence felt like a condemnation to her heart. But as Gracia hated to feel it, her mind saw the reality. It certainly picked a nice time to happen: A month before the big event! As her emotions doubted, her mind understood. With a view of objectivity, a trait inherited from her father, Gracia pondered the question: _What broke up her planned marriage to Maes Hughes?_

Could it be irreconcilable differences? True, the months have shown some problematic habits. The most noticeable came from Hughes. It wasn't his choice of loud clothing, flamboyance and melodramatic acting, or nudist tendencies (in fact, she liked that one a lot). It turned out Maes was something of a slob. This was a discomfort for a woman who once lived in an orderly house where everything was clean and organized. Gracia continued this habit for her new home, because she felt it was necessary. So it bothered her that Maes didn't quite feel the same way. There would always be a trail of boots, coats, and papers everywhere. Her fiance was especially messy when they made love, throwing his garments everywhere (case in point: his boxer shorts hanging on the doorknob)! Maes' study was a new thing altogether. The desk was cluttered with papers, notes, reports, etc. The documents decorated the floor as well. Her attempt to organize things led to an argument. Actually, more like a complaint, Gracia compared this past memory to the stormy one that just happened.

Then there was Maes' habit of being too helpful to people. As much as his aid benefited others, some people did walk all over him. Officers would get promotions through Maes, but he often went unheard or underrated. Successful projects hugely Maes' responsibility were instead attributed to other less worthy. As much as she didn't want to sound proud, Gracia felt Maes didn't get what he deserved. Only Roy seemed to give any congratulations, though he did it in a subtle manner.

But these problems didn't seem so bad under deep thought. So what if Maes was messy? It she could accept him killing people or having a scarred body, being a slob wasn't a big deal. As for his compassionate nature, when all was said and done, Gracia found it endearing. It wasn't as if she was some ambitious wife striving for power and influence. Their present situation was enough (big emphasis on _was_).

So what was the matter? Was it an inability to adjust to Maes' job and its demands? Being the future wife of a Major sure led to some major responsibilities! It meant attending parties, gala luncheons, and trips to the theatre and opera. Maes had given his distaste to hanging around these snobs and their pomp and circumstance. Too stuffy, he once commented. But ever since he promised Roy his aid to become Fuhrer, he curbed his own complaints and hung around the rich and privileged. He took advantage of every occasion to learn about the officers, of their plans and operations and how Roy might exploit it. But Maes' overtures left Gracia being much alone. True, she liked the splendor of the parties, the beautiful dresses, jewelry, and locations. But she didn't really take part. Gracia had always been a little shy. As a nurse, she could speak to patients and strangers with ease, but as a civilian she was in a different world. At least Maes had his 'Happy Face' facade to charm people. Gracia's own cool face made her seem chilly and arrogant to her fellow guests.

This gave society doubts to her compatibility. _What did Maes Hughes see in her?_ That was a common gossip around the party line. Gracia's ear was vulnerable to the ladies talk. Behind her back they insulted her plainness and her lack of position. They praised Maes' good looks, nice guy nature, and physique, flushing and swooning to superficial experiences of those qualities. If those girls knew the real him, Gracia considered, would their shallow nature allow them to remain so devoted?

But that wasn't a cause for dumping Maes. Gracia could ignore these snobs. After all, she had the guy they all coveted! And there came the unlikely ally in Roy Mustang. He was also popular with the girls. At one banquet, a bunch of ladies gathered around him, questioned him about his friend's fiancee. "What does Hughes see in that lady?"

"I don't understand…" He answered.

"See? Why would such a dish settle for some homely plate?"

"Actually, I meant I don't understand what you ladies are getting at." At which he approached Gracia and conversed with her. He even asked her out to dance.

Roy wasn't the only warm acquaintance. Gracia could talk to Alex Armstrong. A strong man known for displaying himself with melodramatic behavior, he was actually a very shy person, awkward in normal conversations. Also in attendance was Roy's new subordinate, Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye. Although she kept a firm demeanor, she was a lovely young woman, especially skilled with a gun. Eventually, with help from Maes, Roy, and Alex, Gracia gained some influence in benefits for war orphans (unfortunately, _homefront_ war orphans) and the like. This won her some popularity. So it wasn't a great problem.

So was the problem some anxiety over Maes' job? Marrying a soldier had its risks. A soldier's wife can become a widow. This shadowing fear fell on Maes' uniform of gray-trimmed blue. It was like Gracia imagined a target on the clothing. Helping Roy meant Maes was heading to a midfield of dangers. Can his luck hold out forever? Will there be a day when her man kissed her goodbye and never came back?

But that wasn't the cause for the break-up. If Maes' previous trials did not steer her off this relationship, what power could probable widowhood have?

Did she find something lacking? There was the important matter of her employment at the Hospital. Gracia had decided to quit her job. This was a huge step; being a nurse had been her life. Would her new life as a housewife be worth this sacrifice? But Gracia had known the drawbacks since the day she walked out of her father's house for Maes. Her love needed her (at least, back then), and she personally felt her work might block that aid. Besides, it wasn't as if she would forever deny her profession. Perhaps a few years, maybe after Roy becomes Fuhrer, Gracia will become a nurse again. Compared to that situation, any other lack was trivial. It was true the wedding she had planned months on had put a massive drain on Maes' income. That meant no honeymoon. Oh well! Gracia felt they could find other ways to spend the time. In fact, Maes made some connections for a nice location for their wedding night.

_Their wedding night,_ Gracia marked the irony. And after all the chastity they endured this year! She had convinced Maes to abstain from sex until they married. Now, it must be reminded that Gracia was no repressed frump. She enjoyed the lovemaking very much. She just wanted to make their wedding night more special; more precious.

But celibacy was something of a struggle. Wrong words escaped their mouths. A date appointment in April: "Maes, how about the sex?" Advice for applying paint on a room: "C'mon, Gracia! Let's get it on!" Sights of temptation also played an issue. Oh, the hunger growing in Gracia whenever Maes exercised shirtless! His sweaty muscles tightening and growing to the strain of labor, leading to grunts and groans that sounded familiar in a different manner (it appeared Maes was not above some treachery). Objects also didn't help. One time Maes helped Gracia clean melons, and he held them for quite a long moment. Gracia was equally prone. Who would guess a carrot could have such power with its long shape…

_Anyway_, the lack of sex was not the cause of discord either. Gracia did not forbid touching skin. She and Maes still bathed together, still slept together (That is, she coddled with Maes' scantily clad body), and there was plenty of romantic make-outs with lips and hands. It tied them over before the big night…which will never come.

No, there was a more pressing issue that caused the end of the engagement and maybe the end of their relationship. Gracia saw the truth. It began when Maes allowed her full authority in setting up the wedding, the food, the dresses, the locations, the seating arrangements. Whatever she did, her fiancé gave his approval. To a casual observer, that was no problem. But as the engagement reached its climax, Gracia perceived some dark truth of his complicity. Maes acted like a 'Yes-Man,' agreeing to this and that! It became apparent that he didn't care about this wedding. That meant he didn't see this marriage as important. If that was so, than he didn't see her as important either. As far as she was concerned, Maes' financing the whole thing was not a sufficient proof.

This afternoon, Gracia confronted him with this problem. As she recalled, she wasn't quite nice about it. But did that justify what Maes did? He fought back, giving a mocking impersonation of her, replicating her constants demands, and how he obeyed them.

"No sex, dear! _Yes dear_. Let's leave out those people! _Yes dear!_ As usual, I've always had to change to your tune, your schedules. Your _yes'_ and _no's_! You won't be satisfied until you removed the _s_ in my name!

Guilt did not deflect Gracia's anger. And thus a major argument exploded. Words were said, some with yelling. And it was Gracia's call: "Fine, I grant you freedom from my rule. Enjoy it!"

Maes stormed out the door. Gracia went to the bedroom. This fight, it had to be a revelation. They had little to argue this past year. And then this happened! That had to mean something. There had to be some real flaws in the relationship, and they would fester into something worse. After all, if no problem existed, why did they scream at each other a month before the wedding?

At any rate, the chance of reconciliation was over. Gracia saw the futility on the living room table. Tonight they had planned to see an opening play at the Bradley Theatre; A little escape from all the busy preparations. Not now anyway. After a brief moody stint in the bedroom, Gracia returned to see Maes missing, the car gone, and one ticket on the table. He went to the play without her! That showed the true distance. It was all over.

So Gracia came to her conclusions at that park bench. She gazed at the stringed ring around her finger; Maes strung it to prove his sincerity. Should she unstring it now? The woman shook her head as if it could deflate the mental pressures inside it. Everything was getting too much. All the preparations, all the expected duties, their jobs, it all came to a head. Was she cut out to be a housewife? Did she really want to marry Maes? It got to be too much. It seemed some space was desired; a lot of it. So, the end was all for the best.

At least, that was what her brain said.

The time of evening called for night, but darkness still waited. A reddish glow lit the skies. The play must have begun by now, Gracia concluded with a sigh. Maybe she should drink her sorrows away again? No, she might as well return home and see the remains of her relationship. Better face it the inevitable resolution.

Gracia was out the door when she saw the street become busy with crowds. A dark cloud had grown in the setting dusk. It was at a certain direction that struck Gracia. Some civilians passed her by, screaming shocking news.

"The Bradley Theatre exploded!!!"

"A gas leak!"

"People are trapped inside!!!"

The last sentence she heard was a new condemnation for the woman. The length of time it took for Gracia to reach the scene felt like a blur to her. Reality seemed to be losing its power. On destination, the hot warmth of destruction pressed her face, her eyes struck by its red as it covered the sky. She saw silhouettes in the backdrop of flame. The mechanisms that demanded her medicinal responsibilities should have operated, but it appeared the cogs had stuck. Gracia felt her whole world shattering. She couldn't think. She couldn't breathe. But her strength kept her standing without tears or hysterics. It worked just as long as no one bothered her.

"Gracia!"

That call did it to her defenses! Fortunately the man she gave weakness to was Roy.

"Roy! Roy!" She beckoned to the man before her. He looked just as startled. In fact, he hugged her. "Gracia, where the hell were you?"

"At a park…" Gracia slurred her answer, before striking to a greater point. "Roy! Maes is in that theatre! Do something! Use that alchemy of yours!"

But Roy only yanked Gracia's arm, pulling her away from the fire. She fought his pressure. "Let me go! Let go!" At first her cries were a strong demand to be obeyed. Then they weakened to a plea.

Roy did release her, and Gracia saw a new silhouette standing before the inferno.

"Hughes!" Roy cried, his words almost the calling of a god in Gracia's view. For that silhouette turned to reveal Maes Hughes! He stood there, throwing his orders with bravery and morale. His turn to their direction, however, stopped him dead. "G-Gracia?"

Tears lined Gracia's cheeks. She nodded.

"Gracia!" Maes' every step grew ecstatic and obsessive. Quickly they embraced, mumbling some words that couldn't be heard. Words were not needed now; just each other.

"You two go," Roy announced. "I'll handle this mess."

The two came to a bench, both having much to answer for. To Gracia's surprise, Maes never went to the play! He actually thought _she_ went without him! Seeing one ticket on the table was the clue. Taking this sight, Maes went to see Roy to lament the end of their engagement. So no one went to the theatre. There was one ticket on the table, but that did not mean the other ticket was taken.

Despite the lack of danger, the implications were enough to leave a shaken emotionalism in Gracia. She apologized. "I was so stupid, Maes," she repented. "All the things you said are true. I was a tyrant. I should never have ordered you about."

With a smile, Maes was strangely calmer. "Gracia, what I said before was just me being mean," he shrugged his earlier insult with a happy turn. "Which means I'm very sorry. To tell you the truth, none of the things you asked me to do were that much against my will. You just never reached my limit."

"But it was ridiculous of me to think your approval meant indifference," Gracia still apologized. "I guess…I was looking for a reason to stop the wedding."

"Running away when the first shots were fired," Maes was positive and understanding. "Same here." His smile was firm, his stance sure and calm. But Gracia noticed no gestures were made. This meant the hurt went deep.

"So, is everything back to normal?" Gracia wondered aloud. Not quite sure. Maes made no answer.

* * *

As they returned home, the scars of tonight's disaster still hovered. The relief of survival was insufficient to the amount of intense wariness. It definitely pressured Gracia. But she kept her composure, looking to the table before her; that same table with the ticket. Kneeling down to the furniture, she saw the second ticket underneath the table! "It must have flown in there by a breeze," Gracia picked the ticket. "Who would think such a little thing could cause so much trouble, Maes?" She got no answer. "Maes?"

No answer from her fiancé. He stood very still. Only his fists shook. But the greater source was his expression. His Happy Face had crumbled. The exposed cracks revealed fatigue and sorrow. From fearful eyes, tears lined his pained face. "I'm so glad…" his voice came out shaken from a frown. "I don't know what I'd do if you died…

His vulnerability magnetized Gracia's own weakness. This opened an attraction that pulled them for comfort. Suddenly, Maes and Gracia grabbed each other. She felt his wet cheek on her own moist face. So good it felt! Then his lips descended to her neck. Gracia jerked her head and groaned.

Maes pulled back, his face fighting his longing. "I'm sorry. I just…"

Gracia immediately kissed his mouth. Not a peck, but a lustful bloom of her lips that demanded more. Maes complied. Then his lips lowered from her mouth to her breasts. Gracia returned the fire, tearing open his shirt. She saw his bare chest, its muscles and scars, the strength and the vulnerability that is Maes Hughes. Gracia accepted them with her kiss.

What followed felt like a dream. But No! Gracia demanded reality, desperately feeling Maes' physicality. She jerked and squirmed to her lover's actions upon her body, exhaling her pleasure. She had missed the sex, the feeling of their bodily contact, the ecstasy of the climaxes. It was more intense then usual. Not abusive, but above gentle. Not that Gracia felt victimized by this rough loving. She returned it. Her hands pressed roughly upon Maes' ever quaking back. With growing frequency, the fingers squeezed upon the solid skin, the nails dug red into the muscular surface. Such ferocity continued three times until the energy ebbed and slumber reigned upon the lovers.

The next thing Gracia's sleepy eyes saw was a green mist. This fog dispersed, with a growing unease. Her eyes focused to behold a green dragon on a bicep. Soon she felt strong arms upon her side. Gracia raised her head to see Maes' face ever close to hers. It was no dream. Thank god. The intimacy was nice and regretful to break. But the woman slowly broke free of this embrace. She got out of the couch where they made love. Naked, she picked up Maes' blue dress shirt, garbing it. Closing it was hard, due to the lack of buttons that was her fault. Gracia viewed the man on the couch. Maes' sleeping face gave not a single smile, or a glow of contentment. The same could be said for Gracia's own worried face.

This all felt like some goodbye tryst. Not to her wish. To acknowledge such a thing was dangerous. Tonight's tragedy amplified a feeling of mortality to their young lives. By her stupidity, Gracia might have lost the man she loved. The man that slept before her must be sharing the same idea. Thus each kiss was hard, each churn rougher and intense. Maes and Gracia took as much from each other as they could. To dilute the fear of loss, their rough lovemaking searched for a living security that may not exist. It was not enough.

Maes stirred, lying stomach flat on the couch. This revealed to Gracia more rue of her actions. Her lover's scarred back had gained fresh nail scratches. Awakening from his asleep, Maes' arm grasped around the carpet floor, feeling nothing. With eyes enlarged, the man erupted from his slumber, completely awake and completely horrified. _"Gracia!"_

"I'm here," Gracia jumped to his side, embracing him for a comfortable reality.

"You're no dream!" Maes cried in relief.

Their confirmed existence saw the lovers lying upon the couch, coddling defiantly. If the future was theirs again, it had a darker shade with it. Not on them. Not on their love. But on the world outside, the world that can still part them no matter their consent. Never did the thought of loss have so much power to hurt them now. Letting go felt like welcoming a fate that would forever separated them.

Maes twitched at his new scars.

"Sorry," Gracia found an inexhaustible supply of apologies. "Got carried away."

"I'm not," Maes attempted lightness. "If I'd been tortured by you, I'd squeal everything. It's me who has to apologize. If I wasn't so stupid, we could have…" He couldn't continue. His naked eyes lacked confidence, as if they needed the glasses more than just clarity.

Gracia wasn't above sorrow either. "I never realized this could happen. As a nurse, I've seen it, but you're never ready for it until it hits close to home. Maes, how do you deal with it?"

Maes raised his face to the ceiling. "I don't," his answer was foreboding and sad. "Death doesn't seem to like me very much."

Gracia winced at _that word_.

"It's almost like I've made this deal with it. For my survival, someone dies in my place. My mother. That killer that might have killed me. I've always made it," again Maes' endurance failed him. "Hours ago I thought it happened again." He buried his face with his hand. Gracia saw he was about to cry again. And she thought she had measurable issues! For a soldier with tough muscles and a tattoo, Maes Hughes had a sensitive side. It was one uncommon trait of his that never bothered her.

His embrace grew tighter. "Please don't go…" he whimpered. "I won't survive if you died."

"Don't say that word!" Gracia snapped. It was an evil word, as if saying it was an incantation. She was nasty in voice, but physically she held her lover with soft comfort.

"I'm saying what I feel. Losing you would feel like getting shot through the heart. That's the problem with having a person in your life. If that person goes, it leaves a lot of space: Empty space."

"Corny," Gracia tried to be positive, her smile choking back the misery.

"I'm such a crybaby!" Maes reinforced himself with a sigh. "Maybe this is not a warning about breaking up. Maybe it's a warning about staying together. We're taking up too much space." He wiped his face. "It's bound to get worse. Maybe we should make a clean break before it's too late."

Gracia found Maes' attempt at fortitude unconvincing. "Maes…" Her own vulnerability became masked for her demand. "Don't do this."

"You don't deserve a crybaby!" Maes snapped. "A stronger man would never do that."

"No he won't! Don't sell yourself short."

Maes was half-tempted, but overrun by his fears. "But d…it, it will happen someday. It could happen tonight, or tomorrow, or next year. If it happens to one, the other will be hurt. I know I'll will. What about you?"

"I would be shattered," the truth sunk hard into Gracia. "But is breaking up the solution? I'll still miss you, especially if something happens to you."

Maes squirmed to a hard answer. "Right…" He lowered his head, defeated.

"Worse, I would only regret the times we could have enjoyed together." Gracia saw Maes peer at her with puppy eyes. It compelled her to bury her face on his shoulder. "No matter what happens, I want to be with you. Squeeze as much happiness before it's too late."

"Now who's being corny?" But the joke aside, Maes seemed to grow better. He showed it with a kiss. "So I guess we're stuck like this. In that case…" He released Gracia and slipped on his boxer shorts. He grasped the telephone on the table. "Hello? Armstrong residence? This is Major Hughes speaking. Get me Lieutenant Armstrong!"

Gracia stared at him with a growing realization. Maes looked back at her. "Honey, I might need my shirt. In fact, I think you should wear something different than what you got on now."

* * *

"Do you, Maes Hughes," a silver-haired, seriously-dressed man spoke reverently, "Take Gracia Stern to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do," Maes declared his sincerity. Gracia saw his loving gaze at her.

Judge Rankir continued. "And do you, Gracia Stern, take Maes Hughes to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do," Gracia gazed at her fiancé.

Rings were slipped into two separate fingers. These new bands served to join their hands.

"Then by my authority, I now pronounce you husband and wife." Judge Rankir spoke his declaration to the couple. The witness, Alex Armstrong clapped his hands. "Congratulations, sir and miss."

Maes kissed his wife. It was a peaceful moment, a sudden break to the shaking storm of the last hours. It got sealed with their lips, seriously rendered by both involved.

The Alchemist shook hands with Maes and received a kiss from Gracia. His eyes sparked with joy. After giving a similar thanks to the Judge, Maes and Gracia repeated kissing. They were now man and wife. The wedding would still go on next month, making it public. But tonight they needed this assurance that, no matter what happened, they would truly together.

As a result of the secrecy, no celebration followed. Alex simply took Judge Rankir home, making his own goodbyes, promising that no one shall know about this elopement. Now came carrying the bride, a job Maes did with enthusiasm. By his strength Gracia came to the bed. Devotion and commitment filled their eyes. And then came…the change for sleep.

"See, Gracia! I don't tell Roy everything." Maes got into a full suit of pajamas. He pulled out his dog tag and slipped his ring through the medal beads. "I can't wait to put this on in a month." His voice sung to the future.

Gracia sadly removed her ring. Otherwise, she was okay. If fears still hung heavily on her mind and heart, it didn't consume her. She slipped into a nightgown and brushed her hair.

Maes got into the red covers, giving an innocent air. "Well Gracia Stern, a.k.a. the secret Mrs. Hughes, ready for bed?"

"Yes, Mr. Hughes," His wife kissed him on the cheek. They snuggled together in the covers.

* * *

"Now hold still," Anya Wicz knelt before her niece, adding the final modification to the wedding dress she and her twin sister once wore.

Gracia found this statuesque immobility a great pressure. But viewing her reflection in the mirror made the discomfort trivial. The dress was of an older design: long-sleeved, with the skirt hanging instead of bouncing. But she really looked beautiful. Her mother must have looked the same way.

"There, all done!" Aunt Anya arose. Gracia relaxed. One would think a near-death experience would wipe away all the doubts concerning this decision. But Gracia still felt a need to escape all this excitement. She would rather face the horror of a patient being amputated limb from limb rather than confront this less disturbing but no less overwhelming situation. She had a peek at the gathering outside. The yard was full of guests. Even Fuhrer Bradley himself made his presence, and he without an invitation. Being the head of the State had its privileges.

At least he won't give the bride away. Dr. Kurtz was given that honor. The old man helped in their courtship in that examination years ago. Was it really four years ago when she guided Cadet Mustang to his sick friend? The location of those memories reminded Gracia of what she left. Her life as a nurse was at an end, at least for right now. She had a small party at the Hospital, interrupted by the rush of casualties. Only Gracia didn't help out. Life at the Hospital will go on without her.

Aunt and niece were not alone. General Erin Lalacon stood in the room as well. To give the groom away, as Maes joked. She kept an indifferent vigil, her mood contrasting with her aunt's zeal. "I still think Hughes is making a big mistake. Marriage will distract him." Her protest became ethereal, as a sigh opened her true view. "Then again, I said the same thing to his mother, and we all know how that ended up!" She rolled her eyes. "I can order strangers around, and yet I can't order around the most important people in my life." She kissed the bride, than strode out of the room.

"What an odd lady," Anya had her say with vindictive eyes. "A good thing she lives out in East, away from you." Her mood changed better at Gracia preening at the mirror. "I remember how your mother looked. Just like you now."

Gracia's thoughts had developed to her other parent. "I wonder what dad would think," she frowned.

"Screw that man." Anya was fierce in her conviction as she was devoted in comfort. "He couldn't give you the love and respect you deserved. Don't waste your tears on him. Give them all to your husband…and others," A funny curve came to her lips. Gracia paused. The older woman had been acting strange since she arrived.

They heard a knock at the door. In came Roy Mustang. He was almost dressed. His hair was slicked back, making him look very handsome. It gave Aunt Anya a different weird look on her face.

"I thought I'd drop in just in case," he looked around.

Gracia accepted the intrusion. "How's Maes?"

"Freaking out, in a Maes Hughes way," he joked. "First wedding I've been to. I got this allergy for commitment."

This time Gracia did not cringe to such self-absorbed words. In fact, she actually missed having Roy as a houseguest. The end of that association came a year ago. It happened when she and Maes used the living room for their last night of passionate lovemaking before the great withdrawal. Roy was gone for the night, or so they thought. Then Maes answered the door still in his most romantic birthday suit. And who did he greet but Roy! He found new lodgings shortly afterwards.

Roy's presence did imply some apprehension, though. "Don't worry," he assured against any dark omen. "The Best Man will be ready in a few minutes."

"That's nice," Gracia thanked him. Roy stilled for a moment, overwhelmed by some thought. "You're very beautiful," His words were whispery, as if he was beneath such sensitivity.

"Thank you." With compliments from Roy, no further fears could endure!

"I wish the best for the both of you." His respect did not overwhelm a little somberness on his face. "It's very easy to take someone for granted."

Gracia could not take that advice for granted.

Roy spoke more of his private thoughts. "You know, I remember that day Hughes first visited me since the war. He quietly told me that he'd help me, but made it clear we weren't friends anymore."

Gracia paused. Was Roy kidding?"

"And then he burst out: 'Kidding!" Roy smiled, equally grateful and sad in that memory. "I don't think we'll ever be as close as we once were. But that's okay."

"Don't be silly. You're Maes' best friend."

"You're his best friend now," Roy expressed his sad sincerity.

Gracia found no way of improving his mood. "Roy…this work you're doing…I support you both. But please promise me you'll look after Maes, okay?"

Roy nodded with an arrogant air. "If you promise me not to screw this up, or let Maes screw this up. He can be an idiot sometimes."

"Aye, sir," Gracia saluted the man.

A better look came to the man. Then he quickly moved to another subject. "So…no honeymoon, I hear," he smirked.

"Yes," Gracia was true. "But I'm okay with that."

Roy grew his own funny look. "I must get going. I have one last chance to talk Maes out of this insanity!"

Anya saw him out. His departure ended her tact. "Nice tush."

"Aunt Anya!" Gracia sighed.

Her aunt only smirked. "Oh, to be young again! Admired by such handsome men!"

Gracia rolled her eyes.

There came another knock at the door. This time it was Alex Armstrong. "May I come in?" He seemed anxious about disturbance, even though this was his family's mansion.

"Of course," Gracia was welcome; Anya a little too much in that respect.

Alex made his way, holding a giant wrapped picture with the grace of holding a small flower. "Since the two of you are already married, I thought why not?" He lay the picture down. "Took me all night to make it," The muscular man showed pride. "I would have preferred showing it to the both of you, but I wanted to be sure you liked it. Major Hughes is always so positive." When he revealed the portrait, Gracia stilled, her eyes the greater movement. Alex's talents were certainly not isolated to just Alchemy! Each end of the portrait showed the couple's profiles, gazing at each other with expressions of an enchanting serenity. It was, to quote Anya, a beautiful picture.

"Thank you, Alex," Gracia raised her face. The giant bent down for her kiss. He wrapped the portrait and left the room.

"And I guess it's my turn now," Aunt Anya said. "Don't strain yourself." She kissed her niece and went to get the bridesmaids.

The absence gave Gracia time to think, especially about the truth of her aunt's behavior. Did Anya know? What a sharp woman, Gracia figured. Instinctively she rubbed her belly. She had missed her period. It wasn't hard to know when it happened. Not since the first time was no protection used. The possible knowledge was not borne heavily. Once learned, Gracia felt a protection from her insecurities and fears. Ironic that under a shroud of death, a new life had come to them! Gracia realized she could take on anything. She was ready for Maes, and marriage, and anything else.

But she will not tell Maes yet. He will marry her for love, not because of responsibility. That might change once he finds out. But she was sure Maes would accept the truth.

Let the happiness last a little longer.

The bridesmaids entered. 'Rizzie' and 'Chest.' With them was Sanra Collins, a neighbor housewife who eased Gracia's integration to the neighborhood. The women were beautifully dressed.

"You look beautiful." 'Rizzie' said the latest repetition of that remark.

"Way to go, Gracia." 'Chest' complimented. Her interested face showed her experiences with the guests.

"Oh, I remember my wedding," Sanra thought nostalgically.

Rizzie seemed to as well, which is why she embraced her friend. "Now, everything is all right, Gracia?" Rizzie gave caution. "It's so easy to fall for a man without realizing who he really is."

"No worries about that," said Gracia with confidence. Ready for her fate, Mrs. Maes Hughes placed the veil over her head, and took her bouquet.

Thus began a long parade, with the bridesmaids leading the bride out of the house. Joining arms with Dr. Kurtz, she made her long progress through the aisle. Through the misty vision of her veil, Gracia saw everyone watching her at their seats. On her side were nurses and physicians from work, friends, neighbors, and her aunt. Gran sat at the edge. How big he looked!

The groom's side was larger, a great heap of blue uniforms. On a separate platform sat Fuhrer King Bradley, surveying the event like a god. Gracia hastily turned to the major platform ahead. There stood Roy Mustang and her beloved. Maes looked very commanding and proud in his uniform. Roy's suit was brighter, but the groom could hold his own: blue coat trimmed with gray, with a sash that held a sabre. The coat was opened to reveal a vest and white bowtie tightly wrapped on his neck. He changed his hair a little. The two bangs on his widow's peak had been combined into one protruding bang. His self-important look was somewhat derailed by his anxious decision to grab the back of his neck. The sure sign of his happiness. The bride joined her fiancee.

Judge Ranfir repeated his announcements, congratulating Maes and his choice. And then came time for the wedding vows. Maes gazed his conviction to Gracia, with a true voice. "When I first saw you, I completely fell for you. People said it was a crush: intense, but unreal and fleeting. Perhaps they were right. My feelings did change. So did I dig a hole for myself? If so, then it was love that dug that hole. That's when I really fell in love with you, Gracia. You were no longer special just to my looking-glass eyes. You are special, period. You are a part of me and my life, and I don't want to think of any life without you. What can I say? I dig you, and will never want to leave this hole."

There came some chuckles in the crowd. Gracia blossomed to such true recognition. Then it was her turn.

"Before I met you, I never trusted any man. After I met you, I still didn't trust any man."

There came some laughter.

"But you showed me new thoughts and dimensions. My narrow world became larger. I saw truth in you. You became my ambassador to the world, and broadened my horizons. But my fears were centered on the question: _why me?_ Why did such a beautiful man want to love me? But with your trust, you helped me grow. And I want to continue growing with you. From now on, I won't think '_Why me?'_ Instead, I'll think _'Why not?"_

Roy gave Maes the rings. Again, the bands joined their fingers.

The Judge made his final words. It was done. Maes lifted the veil. They kissed.

"May I now introduce Mr. and Mrs. Maes Hughes!"

A thunderous applause exploded in this area of love and commitment. The cry '_Congratulations_!' repeated among them, more so since each caller repeated the word four times.

Man and wife triumphantly processed down the line among clapping and cheers. Gracia's shining face was such that only a fool could recall her earlier expressions as 'Glacier.' Who would have thought this could happen to her?

Before their path to the house, there stood a group of officers at both sides. Roy Mustang commanded them. "Salute to Major Hughes and his wife!" They unsheathed their swords, raising them above the newlyweds.

Gracia smiled to the Best Man. Roy nodded with absolute respect and admiration. Man and wife walked through this sworded 'tent'. A snowfall of rice flittered down their progress. It captured a magical moment, something that not even the skills of all present, normal or alchemaic, could ever create; thus all the more wonderful.

The 'snowfall' ended to reveal Fuhrer Bradley standing in their way. His sword pointed to the ground like a cane, he appeared completely different to all that occurred. "Congratulations, Major Hughes," He spoke coldly.

"Thank you, sir," Maes saluted.

The Fuhrer broke a smile, shaking the husband's hand. He turned to the wife, with a gaze as insightful as it was unnerving. "And especially to you, Mrs. Hughes," of which he kissed her cheek. Despite this warmth, Gracia felt an eerie chill to her otherwise happy day. Things returned to abnormal bliss once the Fuhrer left the path.

* * *

One incredible party later, Gracia and her husband were driven to train station by Lt. Hawkeye. The train would head for Eastern City, and Madame Arsel's Bordello. No longer dressed in uniform or wedding white, the Hughes were ready for travel. Gracia had a brown suit and hat, while Maes dressed in a loudly patterned vest and tie, worn loosely. His choice of wardrobe was explained, by the guests and well-wishers, as due to drinking too much. Indeed, the man looked ready to stumble, mumbling his goodbyes. Gracia kept a kind face to her husband's warranted behavior. She hadn't touched the wine, for personal reasons.

Once on the train, Gracia and her wavering husband settled to their coach.

"They're gone now, Maes," Gracia informed her husband. Maes snapped into sudden lucidity, stabilizing his stature erectly. "Well that ends it! And now for the good stuff!" Unwrapping his tie, the husband wrapped his arms around Gracia. She was glad the act was over. In truth, Maes barely touched any wine. He wanted to enjoy their wedding night with full memory. Gracia could hardly wait for the destination. The same bordello room where they almost consummated their love! For this occasion, she had packed the bustier wardrobe she used as a disguise. Time to get it right this time! The remainder of their honeymoon was helped by Roy's wedding present: An all-expense-paid reservation to Aquroya!

Basking in the excitement ahead, Gracia leaned against her husband as he sat against the wall. To this couple, the window showed passing trees and fields, but their true sight was on their new life and future.

"Might I blow the moment with another speech?" Maes whispered to his wife's ear. He pulled out a sheet of paper. "Now, I meant everything I said in my wedding vow. But here's another one." He cleared his throat. "A while ago, I smiled for no reason. Then someone made that smile real. And for that joyful reality you've given me, Gracia, I make this promise. No more. No more self-pity. No more will I hide from you. No more will I think of what I did, but instead think of what I will do. No more will I be anxious about my body. If I make other people anxious, it's there problem. The past is done. The future is ours. And it will be happy, I promise you."

"Beautiful," Gracia turned to kiss her husband.

"And true," Maes added, snuggling closer. His hands dug into her coat, feeling her stomach. Gracia joined her hand to that caress.

To be continued

Next time: The honeymoon brings new looks and a new life to our couple.


	14. An End, a Beginning

The Woman He Loved

Chapter 14: An End…A Beginning!

By claudius

* * *

Gaze at Aquroya in the afternoon! The sun shone at its summer brightest. The lake reflected its sparkles a thousandfold. The sand that separated water and land reflected its shine. But see such incandescence eclipsed by the radiance of one woman making a sure stride upon the shore. Gracia wandered in her own world of beauty.

The heat didn't bother her. She felt especially cooler upon the head, and not from her straw hat. People who saw her now would think she pinned all her brown hair into that hat. In truth there was actually little to pin on. The length of her hair stopped at her jaw. The cosmetic change might not have been completely accepted; Gracia could cry over the haircut. But the present news of her life gave little regret for this requirement of change; a change not for Nurse Gracia Stern, but Mrs. Gracia Hughes (Not like Maes had been rather consistent with his appearance…)

For Gracia, she had a change more profound than anything cosmetic or titled. She firmly caressed her stomach. Over the week she still had not bled. So a discreet visit with a physician from another hotel confirmed her suspicions: pregnant. Once the secure lock of this reality set in, the expectant mother basked in the glow of its virtues. Her shorn hair was piffle compared to having a baby. Maes' baby. For a woman known for her calm behavior, Gracia found herself giggling and jumping at every minute. Her hands constantly patted her smooth stomach. A life lived within it. Just think what everyone will say! Her neighbors, her friends, her Aunt. And, of course, her baby's father…

The woman turned up the road aside the sandy beach. The waves were ominous to the city of Aquroya. The resort was supposed to be sinking into the waters. Best to enjoy its natural treasures before it was too late, and Mrs. Hughes certainly did that with her Maes! Such memories carved into her mind. Every place the woman saw with a delightful familiarity. Over there at the shore, Gracia could picture Maes frolicking like a dancer upon the sands! She could feel the water on her legs as she joined her husband, felt the air as he lifted and twirled her, feel the sand when they kissed and made out. And then there was the lovemaking. That part they kept in private, of course, and they had lots of it in private. That day of desperation (and the cause of her new condition) did little to spoil the romantic magic and thrill of their wedding night and honeymoon.

Soon Gracia reached the Hotel Mount. The name came from the building's perch on a hill overlooking the beautiful horizon. Most noticeable of this house was a balcony on its roof: The bridal suite. It was the most coveted place in the hotel. This was Roy Mustang's wedding present.

Gracia entered the hotel lobby. She passed busy bellboys, greeted fellow guests playing cards or relaxing in their chairs. By the stairway she came to her room. A small place, but nicely furnished (bed curtains…) with a nice view of the shore. A look through the Franch windows revealed her husband on the balcony. Maes lay still in his purple trunks, his muscled body glowing like some Bronze statue. A cracked bronze statue. Maes had indeed carried through his promise to never feel anxious about his body ever again. He bore his naked form with such exhibitionism and pride, ignoring the very noticeable scars lining his torso. Gracia endeared to such confidence. Who cared what people thought? They did not exist in the world of the Hughes.

Her husband had another change as well. Dark hair lined his chiseled jaw. Maes had allowed his whiskers to grow, within limits; he still shaved his upper lip and cheeks. Some people did not look good with a beard; Maes somehow succeeded in looking even more handsome.

Gracia hovered over her piece of living human meat. She bowed and kissed his lips. The eyelids stirred and arose to expose striking green-lime eyes. A true smile curved on his lips. "Hey there, gorgeous!" His voice arose with his body. "Everything okay?"

"Yes," Gracia sincerely smiled.

Maes' darkened finger tenderly drew her hand. "Can I improve the mood?"

"Wait!" Gracia resisted with a smirk. "You're all sweaty."

"So will you," he grinned, pulling her for a more awesome kiss. Wistful, the lady separated from her man and walked to the bed. Her hat remained, staying on as everything else left her.

Maes dived onto the bed like it was a pool of water, disappearing within the striped quilt. Out went his swimming trunks. Then he popped from the 'pool,' arms bent and supporting his excited face. "Care for some love in its most wild form?"

With a racy eye, Gracia removed the hat. Her naked shoulders flexed to the oncoming touch of her hair. But because of her actions, nothing came. If anything, Maes' face made the dive. "You cut your hair," he whispered to the sight in mixture surprise and shock. He crawled close to her, fingering the short stubs with dazed realization.

"I thought I needed a change." Gracia suddenly felt a little self-conscious.

After a second, Maes welcomed the change. "You have a way of looking cuter."

"Oh ho?" Gracia's finger drew upon her husband's new hirsute changes.

This tickled Hughes, as if he was a bust to one beautiful sculptor. "Going to mold me?"

Gracia stretched her smile. "The whiskers make you look dignified."  
"Really?" Maes' lime eyes glowed at the flattery. "Well, there goes the razor!" He fell back to the bed, legs swinging up. "Y'know, they say when a wife cuts her hair…it means she's unhappy about the marriage."

Gracia bowed before him, her tips touching his chest. "They also say that for a husband with facial hair."

Hughes rubbed his wife's short hair. "So I take it this is our way of saying: Fuck convention!" Those hands enveloped her body, moving closer to his face and their lips. "I'm as happy as I can ever be. No length of hair can change that."

"Me too," Gracia kissed her naked man.

* * *

They engaged in the lovemaking for the last afternoon of their honeymoon. The consistency of such actions over the week brought some rue to the wife. How could she have withheld this from her Maes for a year? How did they ever endure it? Still, it did mean Maes loved her for reasons besides rubbing her to make a fire…not that she was against _that_. Especially not now.

They made up a year of chastity by a week of fulfilling the marriage duties in the consecutive days of their honeymoon. Not that it had been a duty. A lot of it required some new things. The couple had decided to take a few leaves from Chest's naughty little sex book. Hey, it was their honeymoon: Have at it with the naughty bawdiness! For the majority of it, Gracia was graceful and willing. Except for the time Maes wished to photograph themselves in bed. As a postcard for Roy! Gracia had her issues about such exposition to Roy of all people. She only agreed to have an unclad shoulder to show that the otherwise heavily draped Gracia Hughes was naked. Maes, on the other hand, practically exhibited his full body save for his symbol of gender! She could just imagine the Flame Alchemist's reaction when he gets this picture…

Today's particular loving was followed by a nap. Maes fell soundly asleep, while Gracia lay upon his chest, staring at the dog tag around his neck. The wind, the sound of the lake and the birds gave a soothing complacency to their rest. But no matter the comfort of her man and the surroundings, Gracia's mind kept her awake. She remembered her love kissing her belly in romantic fervor. It felt like he already knew.

But the truth is Maes did not know. His wife had been selfish this week. As much importance her pregnancy- whether true or not- reigned, Gracia wanted to Maes to be solely beholden to her this honeymoon week. If she told him her suspicions as soon as possible, it might have caused some problems. Would his wedding her be based on being the responsible man and not a man who wanted to share his life with her forever?

The consequences could be different. Maes had made his wishes to delay having a family. He had to help Roy Mustang's ambition in becoming Fuhrer. This could throw a wrench into things…Gracia mentally shrugged. She was giving Maes little credit. He might be happy about the news. The baby wasn't going to bring disaster to their lives. This wasn't some shotgun marriage. True, the conception occurred out of wedlock, but that was hours before their elopement. No way people can prove the truth! Furthermore…

_Still the thinker, Mrs. Hughes?_ Gracia ended her analysis. This situation did not need any objective thought. Maes will want their child. She just knew it. Her hand rubbed against his cut chest. It received a clasp by her love's somnambulist grip. Her snuggle tightened, waiting to fall blissfully asleep with him in their nakedness.

This ended with the knock on their door. "It is about six o'clock," said the voice of a bellboy.

The eyes of Maes Hughes snapped open. Grabbing his glasses, he sprang out of the bed for his clothes. "C'mon dear! We can't miss the sunset!"

* * *

As evening came, the man who grew his hair while his love shortened hers presented their changes together to any witness. Maes' wardrobe consisted of shoes, swimming trunks, and a loudly patterned shirt, buttoned midway. Gracia adorned her swimsuit, a skirt, and a blouse.

"Just think Gracia!" Maes joked. "We'll spend our fiftieth anniversary here…on a boat." He then continued on other humor about the resort. Gracia stopped listening; her view had been conquered by the sight of a child. The little golden-haired boy sat on a fence before the windy shore. He twisted petals off a flower, thrusting them into the sky.

This beautiful thing attracted Gracia enough to join him. The child raised his head to her, looking innocent and confused before he resumed its play. Gracia captured the image to her mind and heart. This was her future, she believed. She threw some flowers into the air herself. Gleefully she showed the child her acceptance of such nonsensical fun.

Then she got back to her husband. Maes carried a different expression. No smile. His sad head turned away, as if unable to face something unbearable.

"Maes?"

Quickly the portrait vanished, leading to a restoration of mirthful attitude. "Oh nothing! I thought I was going to crap, but it was only a fart. Sorry."

Gracia was unconvinced. Maes kissed her warmly, slinking his hand through her blouse. This was reciprocated, though she found more skin to caress. Suddenly, Maes grabbed her hand and ran. Dusk was approaching.

Their destination was a rocky cliff, large to everyone but so little to the sky around it. Maes led the way. He climbed an especially rocky terrain, despite the safer path to it. It was this path Gracia followed. Maes may climb things with a skip, but she had to walk safely. Not just for her inexperience, but because of her condition.

"I'm over here!" Hughes stood at the edge, looking like he was ready to dive off the peak.

"I'm coming!" Gracia panted at her effort. The next few months are going to be careful! Will she be vomiting soon? Unfortunately, that ailment will also come with the baby.

Gracia joined her husband, who swallowed her within his arms. They sat down on a rock. Head to head they watched the horizon and the lake. Sure, they were here an hour early, but they spent the time either talking or being blissfully silent to each other's company.

And then it happened! The change of day to night was glorious. A lustrous glow of red and orange hues shined upon the ending. The clouds scattered upon the epic landscape. This was something of a bigger meaning, witnessed by two insignificant people. Hands tightened. Eyes grew wet.

"So the sun sets on our honeymoon," Mrs. Hughes spoke pathos.

"Just wait a few hours," her husband kissed her.

* * *

Returning to the hotel, the couple changed for dinner. Nothing too fancy, allowing Maes to wear a suit without a tie. Gracia felt a little tight in her brown dress, for reasons secret to her. The hotel business had given them many activities, from a round tour, to a costume party, to sports. Maes and Gracia did them all. Tonight promised to be a quieter affair. In a porch overlooking the shore, they ate a nice dinner.

And then a wild dance started. People filled the porch. Fireworks lit the dark sky. Maes arose to the wonderful chaos, giving his hand to Gracia.

His partner was reluctant. "Sorry, I can't."

Maes pressed for a change of mind. "C'mon…it's our last night." He knelt to her, squeaking with pleas.

But Gracia was steadfast. "I have a headache. Can we go back?"

Maes sulked a little, but he obeyed. "Sure."

The couple passed through the crowded festivities, returned to their suite. The windows brightened with the fireworks. Maes grumblingly lay on the bed, removing his shoes and coat.

Gracia entered the bathroom. She spied at the mirror. Her hand created space before her stomach, an imaginary measure to its future size. Maes certainly pumped the balloon! Then she removed her dress, revealing something more comfortable.

Which is why Maes' next sight of his wife was her wearing the same tight bustier she wore on their wedding night a week ago. The man, disappointed for a quiet night, stared with wide eyes and a renewed interest.

"This is something I thought to seal the honeymoon," Gracia strode before her.

"What about your headache?" Maes reminded her humorously.

"An excuse to get you here," She coyly pressed against him, touching his exposed neck.

"You manipulator…" Maes exchanged fake confrontation with fake condemnation. Words stopped for the next hour. Surrounded by curtains, the couple lay on different parts of the bed. One on stomach, with the other by side. They were mostly free of the sheets and quilt, but exposing their nakedness to no one but each other.

Maes towered Gracia, his naked face gazing at the new changes she made. His eyes still piercing with interest and happiness, he drew his finger upon her hair. "Reminds me of when I first saw you. Your hair all bundled up…your neck showing." He kissed that neck. Gracia swooned.

Hughes turned his attention to his own hair. "Maybe I should get a haircut too."

Gracia gazed at her husband's forehead with disapproval. She tweaked his long bang curl. "Cut off more of that, and you'll look like Alex."

A smile of ideals formed in Hughes' pleasured lips. He stood up on his knees, spreading out his arms. Voice and muscle expanded in tone. "Never fear, Milady! Major Hughes the Love Alchemist will flex his great skills for your enjoyment!" He threw many postures of muscle preening, putting his pectorals and tattooed bicep to dance. And Gracia indeed laughed. As present those body scars are, as Maes' performance showed, they might as well be paper cuts to him.

"A rival for Armstrong, huh?" Hughes made out a boyish grin. He got a pillow in the face.

"Yes, cut everything but the curl!" Gracia snickered.

"Forget it!" Hughes socked her with a pillow.

This exciting moment of flesh, feathers, and laughter soon calmed and led to a quieter, sadder comprehension. Their honeymoon was over. The two looked up at their love abode. The curtains surrounding their bed gave the impression of walls; protection from Outside and its dark world. In here, they were safe in their private acts of happiness.

"Ever think we could just stay here?"

"Not a bad idea." Maes didn't sound serious about it. "Mrs. Hughes, are you taking advantage of me?" He asked casually. He broke into a smile. "Keep doing it." He smoothed Gracia's nude back.

Their eyes perched into the ceiling, and the shadows. With the dawn, the night that replaced it would go away too. They would go back to the real world. And the week had been so wonderful. She was happy! She knew it. The possible future of a bad happening made these final hours stick out like a sore thumb. But at the moment, the fears were superficial in the rich emotions she had now. So close to him she felt, not just because of their embrace.

"Tomorrow…"

Her husband hushed her with a kiss to her shoulder. "Don't fret. The party is just beginning. I'll do my best to make you happy. You've done enough for me, sacrificing a lot."

_Sacrifices. _Gracia bobbed her head closely to her lover's. She listened more to his words, in his true voice. Somber, a little fearful, but determined. His beard added to the drama. "I saw how you clicked with that kid. I know you'd make a great mother." And then came the counter point. "If only the world was good. But it isn't. As much as I believe in a lot of it, I can't forget the other half. The ugly half. It's no place for kids."

Gracia tensed.

"I know you want children. So do I!" Maes spoke with regret, "But not right now."

A chill touched Gracia. But she was not afraid. No more backing away from any problem! She pushed up, looking at him. "Dear, I think you're a little too late for such nobility."

Maes' sleepy eyes ended. Who knew eyes limited in vision could widen with such optical power! Gracia nodded calmly to such melodramatics, though her face carried radiance. It confirmed the truth to her husband, once he put on his glasses.

"H-how did this happen?" He cried, then his face turned to self-rue over such a stupid question. "I mean…are you sure?"

"I've missed my period for more than a month," Gracia explained. "I went to a doctor today."

Maes twitched his eye-popped head like a bird. When the twitching stopped, so did the shock. "_Honey_…" He hugged his wife, touched with serenity.

Gracia basked in the change of mind. "But you said…"

"Pfff!" Maes sneered at his previous words. "Screw it! Blot it out of memory!"

Gracia was pleased at her confirmation; she saw her naked belly caressed by loving hands.

"Me, a father…" Hughes' realization was a humble kindness. He sprang from the bed, charging toward the Franch windows. He opened them and shouted: "We're having a baby!!!"

"Maes!" Gracia cried with a shock.

Maes stopped, lowering his head about his certain 'wardrobe.' "Oops!" He closed the windows with embarrassment. "Good thing no one's outside." Quickly, the man lessened his nudity with red-checkered boxer shorts. Gracia would never get tired of such a sight. However, her husband's cheer suddenly dimmed into concern. "My dear, you'll catch your cold." Maes marched to the bed. "You have to be very careful from now on." Swiftly he put a pillow behind Gracia. "Okay, lay down."

Gracia obeyed. The sheets and quilt fell on her breasts.

"I'll get your nightgown."

This move was stopped by a warm touch of her hand. "You'll be enough for warmth."

Sanity returned to the dotting daddy-to-be. "Oh, okay!" He pressed himself and the sheets closer to Gracia. He wound an arm upon her belly. "Okay, snug as a bug." He heaved some snickered breaths, fighting the excitement from this news. Gracia found she was even more kissable than before. Then he moved above her, stopping like an arch. "Uh dear…maybe we should look at that book again. My rock-hard abs might crush junior."

* * *

Again the lovemaking led to a nice sleep that Gracia found way too brief. Part of her awakening was her lack of contact with her bed partner. He went missing. She found this to be never a good sign. Her husband was probably awake, moping about something thru the night.

Fortunately, she saw a dark outline through the windows. Gracia donned a robe and strode to the balcony. Maes lay on his chair, wearing boxers and a robe this time. The opened garment gave his torso muscles a bulging look. But Gracia was more interested in her husband's quiet visage to the sky. He looked at her, his grim face offsetting a bright glow on it.

"Didn't mean to wake you," Maes sat up. His lack of glasses exposed his eyes and their vulnerability. The new beard also gave a new maturity. "It's my turn to think a lot. Especially after the surprise you gave me."

Gracia sat next to him. "I wanted to tell you before, but I just wanted this time to be about us. Now that it's over, I feel selfish."

Maes fell into accusation. On himself. "No, I'm the self-absorbed asshole here. I demanded too much from you."

"You were being noble, thinking about the child's safety."

"No, that was me being selfish. Now that I think about it, it's not the world I'm fearing for the kid. It's me," he rubbed his face. "I don't deserve to be a father."

Gracia leaned closer, ready to share strength.

"I killed people, Gracia," Hughes grew sadder. "And one of them was a father. When you think about that, then what right do _I _have becoming a father? Should a murderer give life? One day the kid is going to ask me on what I did during the war. What do I tell junior?" His face bordered on the possible hatred, dropping down.

Gracia took this news with lesser weakness. It was up to Mrs. Hughes now! She grabbed both her husband's hands. "Maes, the bread isn't out of the box yet. And you are not some abusive monster of a father. I've seen you connect with children more than any man I know. As for what you did…haven't you been doing all you can to make up for it? As far as I'm concerned, that's the makings of a father any child would be proud of."

But Maes kept his head bowed. Gracia lifted it up. "Maes, this child's not a warning. It's a hope for the future."

Maes' eyes leaped around. Not in insolence but in willing acceptance. He sighed. "Thanks, I needed that. Why do you always make me believe these things?" He lay down, coddling Gracia with him. "This is going to be a large responsibility. I hope I'm up to it."

He changed the subject! Gracia noted the secrecy of her husband's other fear: The Hughes family's knack for being raised by only one parent. She will not believe it. She and Maes will see their grandchildren.

Maes didn't cover that issue, restoring to a snuggly happy sigh. "Enough with the self-pity! Time to enjoy the feeling!"

The change of direction didn't bother Gracia. She certainly didn't want to hear about childbirth deaths. "Then enjoy it, Maes," Gracia said. "I want to have your child. Say you will too."

"Yes, honey. You win." He sighed. "Boy, it doesn't let up! Being a major, a supporter for Roy's campaign, a husband, and now a father! I'm going to have a lot on my plate."'

"You're not alone, Maes."

"I hope so!" The expectant father took on an excitement. "I'm gonna need your advice! I know zip about raising a child!"

"You'll learn, darling." Gracia snuggled closer. "Just learn the right way. There are different kinds of parents: Parents who don't want children and don't love them."

"Parents who want children," Maes added, "but only see them as an heir and nothing else."

"Parents who don't want children, but still end up loving them." Gracia felt Maes' hand rub her stomach.

"And parents who want children," the expectant father concluded, "and will love them with all their hearts."

The two gazed at each other with their united choice. "D!" They lay together on their seat, watching the starry sky. Soon the sun will rise. Every ending has its beginning.

To be continued

* * *

I deliberately misspelled "French Windows,' since France does not exist in the FMA world, and I still wanted to use the word regardless.

Next time: This story now reaches the beginning of Fullmetal Alchemist Anime1! See the aftermath of Bald's hijacking attempt, much to Gracia's distress! Then the newlyweds come to the most happiest change in their lives, only to be threatened by a dark event concerning a witness to their beautiful moment…


	15. Hour of Gold, Hour of Lead

The Woman He Loved

Chapter 15: Hour of Gold, Hour of Lead.

By claudius

* * *

This chapter is made up of five stories. Here is the chronology in line with the Anime1 series:

-The first story is set after Anime1 Episode 5: "The Man with the Mechanical Arm."

-The second story is set during Anime1 Episode 6: "The Alchemy Exam."

-The third story is set after Anime1 Episode 7: "Night of the Chimera's Cry."

-The fourth story is an epilogue to my 2006 fanfiction story _Fair Exchange._

_-_The fifth story is set after Anime1 Episode 9: "Be Thou to the People."

* * *

_He's late._

For Gracia, this fact never had more power than it did this night of December 1910. Her husband Maes had usually managed to come home every night, even if lately his returns saw him quickly strapped and ready for bed. However, in this case, he had been absent for days. He had received an order from Command to meet up with the vacationing General Hakuro and his family, and see to their comfortable return to Central. That return was supposed to be tonight.

Supposed to be. Gracia grew impatient, and her condition increased that intolerance. At least her husband phoned her from the train, using its portable communication room for a call that lasted an hour. He said he would be back half-past five. It was now a quarter after six, and nothing came from that front door.

In awaiting his late return, disappointment filled her emotions. And she had fixed his favorite meal for dinner! Pea soup. The large pot stood in the middle of the table, its steam about gone. She had made quite a lot, and not just for him. Fortunately, she already had four helpings of the soup. Maes wasn't the one having the baby.

Sometimes she wished he did. Gracia could barely see her lap under her swelling belly. For the umpteenth time her five-month development brought her many feelings. First came regret: why didn't she experience a year of childless wedded bliss with Maes? It would have been nice: certainly a lot more mating could have been done to make up for a year of celibacy. Then she could get on with the family-making (which also required the process of mating)! That's what you get for living in sin! Now she had passed her trimester, the act of mating was out of the question. Too bad, because her carnal urges had amplified. Sensationally she demanded much of the physical beef that made up her husband. Fortunately, Maes did his best to be helpful once celibacy was enforced. For her benefit, he would strip himself to the shorts or nothing at all. Thus Gracia had her meat to finger and touch. And she wasn't the only one enjoying it, judging by the inflation below Maes' own belly!

Too bad he couldn't vomit for her. The last months were especially hard on her health, with a lot of nausea trips to the bathroom. Gracia had to carry this burden by herself, along with the constant efforts to arise, move, and do some of her wifely duties. It occurred to her that the patients were right: you never can understand until the shoes are on your own feet. Oh well. At least that idea can work the other way too. Once she got over the detractors of baby-making, Gracia's complaints turned trivial and superficial. Away from the problems of her delicate condition, she looked to the wonder that affected most expectant mothers. It was hard to believe such a special experience could happen to her, to bear a new life growing inside her stomach. Being a former nurse did not jade her own views. Not even the experiences of pained mothers going through the ordeal of pushing out big things out of a hole the size of walnuts!

And then at about six-thirty, the door finally opened. "Hi, honey! Did you have the baby yet?!"

Gracia decided not to greet her returning husband. He would come to her. Sure enough, Maes danced into the dining room in full uniform. "Sorry for the lateness," he warmly apologized. He looked at the table with a sprightly glee. "You've kept yourself busy this weekend."

"Is that all?" Gracia said icily.

The husband gave her a knowing look, then knelt to his seated wife. "I missed you." He kissed her quickly but passionately, than he bowed lower to her stomach. "And how's baby been?" he glowed humorously, with a less passionate but no less loving kiss upon the big belly.

"Getting bigger."

"Good. Don't strain yourself." He arose and strode off to the hall, very quickly. Very pleasant. Very suspicious.

"So how was the trip?" Gracia raised her voice.

Maes' voice was calm. "It was nothing. Was cooped up in the communications room. Got to meet Hakuro's children. Nice kids. Got a lot of practice for the new visitor. Called Roy a couple times, drove him crazy. I also got to meet these two brothers." He returned his appearance bootless and garbed in his red robe. It fueled Gracia's intelligence. That was a peculiar dress for this occasion. Maes never wore a robe whenever he was fully dressed.

Maes sniffed the strong scent of food. "Oh goodie! Pea soup!" He expressed his pleasure. "I've had enough of military slop." With one arm he grabbed a bowl and sat it before the pot. With that same arm, he poured the soup. With that same arm, he carried the bowl to his chair.

Gracia came closer, touching the arm he did not use.

A strain hit Hughes, causing him to drop the plate.

"Maes," Gracia revealed her tempted curiosity with a slow question. "What happened?"

"I burned my thumb!" Maes began blowing it enthusiastically. "Wanna kiss it better?"

His cuddly defense was like paper to her rainstorm demand. "Maes. Take off your robe."

Maes rolled his head. "I see those hormones kicking in-"

_"Major Maes Hughes!"_ Gracia roared.

One fallen smile later, the guilty husband took the hint. He began to disrobe. One arm was quick and smooth compared to the stiff other. Gracia hoped it was nothing. That security died when she saw the red bloom adorning the arm in question.

Gracia usually acted cool and behaved. That was before the pregnancy. "_Where the hell did you get that!?"_ She screamed with a pointing finger.

Maes cringed, reacting with a smile of mercy. "Roy told me his suspicion that General Hakuro was a marked man. That's why I went." He sighed. "And an ex-soldier named Bald came on schedule." As he spoke, he began to undress. He removed the special wrist gauntlet for his push knife. Then he got to taking off his shirt. The bandage on his arm had reddened to the point of needing a new one. "I got in over my head."

Gracia quickly (or as quickly as she could) got the first aid kit to her husband. Her calm demeanor hid a tense suppression of dark justice.

"Have I ever told you how great it is to have a nurse for a wife?" Maes attempted some humor to cut the tension.

No effect. Gracia's application of medical aid was done with rueful anger. "You're like an old doll, getting cut everywhere." She continued to chill her words, gazing upon the familiar black welts that covered her husband's chest, stomach, back, and sides.

"Um, honey? If this is the hormones talking, then I prefer the times it made you want me naked." He arose, unbuckling his pants. "In fact…"

But the quick deprivation of his clothing did little to quell Gracia's nerves. "How many before you get one cut that kills you?" She clutched the wound, getting her husband's pain. The consequence made her feel worse. "Why do have to risk your life like this?"

Maes went very still with an uncertain face. "It's what I got to do for Roy."

The bandages and scissors crashed to the floor. "Oh, well, guess your family makes no difference!" Again, her condition brought out some out-of-character traits. With a wild emotion of tears and wails, Gracia charged for the living room. She sobbingly lay upon the arm of the couch. Minutes seemed to fly by in her wretched feeling.

She felt the cushions shake, and bare legs slide down around her. "I'm sorry, dear." Maes slide behind her. "I won't do it again."

"Sure, until Roy tells you to jump into a burning building." Gracia responded, feeling herself being enveloped by bare legs and arms. Add to that the close proximity of a warm whiskered face. Such intimacy opened her guarded heart.

"No way I'm going to do that. Especially not now." Maes gazed upon her with a face serious and considerate, with a similar voice. "You think you're frightened? Well, I beat you on that one. When I got shot, I suddenly had this thought that I was going to die," He touched her stomach. "And I was never going to see her."

The tearful wife made some light. 'So you think it might be a girl, now?"

"Well, every expectant father wishes his firstborn to be a boy. Let me be the exception."

Gracia managed to make a smile, covering her teary eyes. "I'm sorry about my behavior. Hormones."

"Hey, it's not all bad." Mischief became Maes. "I like the hot, sexy look it's given you."

His lips caressed her cheek, turning her on.

But Gracia forced herself back to seriousness. "I just fear that one day, you'll leave and never come back. I… don't regret my decision. I knew what to expect when I married you. But what choice does our child have?"

And she got a little silence from her heavy words. When Maes responded, his tone was just as weighty. "I know, I know. It bothers me too. I don't want anything to happen to either of us." He appeared a little grave on that point, but he sparked into a chipper excitement. "But I know we have a good thing coming. My life seems to have a cycle of bad events/good events. Something bad happens, and then something good happens. My father dies- bad thing. And then I meet you- really good thing. I take a man's life- bad thing- and then I find out you love me- really good thing. I get tortured, and then we make love for the first time. We have that trauma about death, and then what happens? We get a child and then got married."

Gracia gazed at the bandaged arm that joined in the embrace. He did have a point.

"So don't worry. I survived, so we'll see our kid getting born."

As ever, Gracia's rough fears smoothed to her husband's optimism. Like he said, they've used up their bad luck for this year.

_But what happens after the good thing?_

"Still, just to be on the safe side," Hughes gave his wife a reassuring hug. "No more plots and body-guarding. It'll be the desk or meetings for me. No more action...at least until the baby's here." He squeezed her, tapping her belly. "_That's_ going to be one big challenge itself."

Gracia wiped her tears. Not altogether pleased, but definitely not consumed with sadness either. She pried herself free of her husband. "Come on you oaf. Dinner's not getting any warmer." She walked back to the dining room. Maes jumped over the furniture and intercepted her.

"Can't wait. And let me tell you about these brothers I met…"

_

* * *

Where is she?_

Lying on her hospital bed, Gracia never felt so tired in all her life. Every part ached with exhaustion, making the inner plea to rest and sleep. But she still fought the physical temptations. Her resolve was maintained by a simple primal desire: _She wanted to see her baby!_

What were they doing here? Staying home was better. She should never have let Maes take the both of them to the hospital! She should never have let the doctors take her baby away! This is her child they stole! How dare they take her away! All the excuses made to her gave no progress to complacency. The need for rest: _she wasn't the least bit tired_! The nurses who tried to assure her that things were all right…_was she ever that stupid back then?!_ The small baby she bore took all priority in her thoughts and possession. Nothing else mattered. Not Maes. Not the torturous experience of going into premature labor on Edward Elric's birthday party. Everything in Gracia's life changed that moment her last cry led to her daughter's first.

Her daughter. _Her first-born daughter._ Gracia didn't care if the baby was a girl. Forget those husbands and their macho pride of having first-born sons (She included Maes in that group, even though her husband had made little concern of the child's gender)! She had created this new life, as unique, as valuable, as special as anything she had ever seen. Her daughter would be the most important thing in her life, balls or not, macho fathers or not.

The door creaked. Gracia's heart thumped at expectation. Inner prayers cried out. Please let this be what she wanted! The nurse came in wheeling a cubicle. And Yes! Maes was following her! Excitement pulsed in Gracia's tired form. Her expectations went a little crazy. This baby had to be hers! There was no other woman in this room. It had to be hers! Spotting the babe's face confirmed it. Frantically, she lunged out her hands like a kid after candy. _Gimme Gimme!_

Maes went to the babe. With a serious care completely new to his character, he gently picked their daughter up. "Here you go," he spoke in whispers that Gracia's ears picked up. The connection made, peace washed into the new mother, the sharp change of mood bringing tears into her eyes. The tiny baby girl in her arms looked healthy, warm and sleeping. So small she looked; her newly developed head, her hands hardly big enough to grasp a strand of her hair. So delicate and feeble. Wasn't she beautiful?

Maes sat beside her. "The doctors say nothing's wrong so far." He made every word clear, despite the shattering of his happy mask. The calm that he held for these seven months was gone, the deluge appearing with a marathon of emotions. "Good for her."

Gracia's present sensitivity to her husband grew. The finished attention of her childbirth gave her stronger sympathy. This experience must have been hell for Maes; the premature birth, no doctors in the house (though it had would-be Alchemists), a blizzard outside, all this wrapped up by the shadow of his mother's death in his own birth. A great burden to live under these months: the fear that history will repeat itself with both mother and child the cost.

But a new reality had come. Mother and child sat here and alive. Their daughter survived this birth. She will make it.

Maes broke free of the sadness, relieved by the awesome truth he beheld by his tearful eyes. He grabbed the back of his neck. "This may be due to the daddy-goggles I'm wearing now," Maes choked in his words, touching his eyes and quivering mouth. "But I see the two most beautiful girls in my entire life."

"Oh Maes," Gracia gave an arm out. Her husband pressed his head upon her embracing shoulder. Head to head they shared their sobs. Gracia had never seen a father cry for his child. If she possessed any remaining doubts of Maes' commitment to their daughter, this sensitive compassion dispelled them forever.

"I-I'm so glad…to see her popping out in time." Maes' damp face bowed to the babe; her forehead warmed by his tender kiss. Quickly, the new father changed priorities (or at least tried to), flustered in his sudden stupidity. "Half a day old and our kid's got no name!" He attempted some meditative seriousness, not too convincing though. "Well, we both know Maes Jr.'s out of the list." He snickered. "So, it's a thing to name the child after the grandparents."

Gracia thought about her mother's name Eleanor (or Elly as her family called her), and no doubt Maes was thinking about his mom Alicia. "We could call her Alicia."

Maes stroked his eyes knowingly. "Make that _Ely_-sia?"

Gracia thought about this alliance of maternal names and agreed completely.

"So be it," Maes lowered his head to the baby. "Welcome to us, Elysia Hughes!"

And mother and father spent the hours looking at their new child. For such a small thing, the babe carried a something bigger for Gracia and Maes. To them, all hope and happiness bloomed in her for the rest of their lives.

* * *

The room was full of fear and desperation, with Gracia tiptoeing carefully to the crib. For all the work done for making the nursery, Elysia ended up sleeping in their bedroom. That intimacy was never more valuable than now for this new mother. She tried to stay calm. There was no problem. No nagging feeling that her worst dreams had come true. No repeat of what happened to Nina Tucker…

And then Gracia spotted the empty cradle. Fear and worry shoved into her self-control, rushing all point to searching for her child. Despairingly, the room showed no clue. And then the door opened. It showed a figure as dark and unknown as a silhouette. Gracia had never seen him before, but she knew him. And that made him worth her hate. _"Shou Tucker!"_ she shouted. _"Where's my child?"_

This figure smiled. "My last experiment was a failure." Each word of his response plunged its acid meaning into the woman. Gracia felt horror amplified. "No…"

"I won't fail with the new specimen!" He raised something. Elysia.

"NO!" Gracia matched Shou with insanity, bellowing a scream of such torment. She clawed after the figure like a lioness. He fell to her attack, growing as soft as a pillow. And this soft figure spread to that of a bed.

"Honey, it's okay!" A calm voice, gifted with strong hands, opposed the woman's trauma. "It's just a bad dream." Soon Gracia's cries fell as the sanity of the true reality sank into her mind. Maes was with her, still in his day clothes.

There came a cry from nearby. There was no time for a hug for her husband. Gracia jumped to the cradle. The revealed barrier of dream and reality achieved solidity. Elysia lay inside, disturbed but very much alive. This truth solidified further as Gracia made contact with her baby.

"She's safe, dear," Maes Hughes spoke to his wife as a husband could, even if coldness marked his consoling voice. "No Alchemist will use our kid for experiments."

With lioness protection, Gracia encircled the room close to her child. Elysia's birth felt like the beginning of a golden age. Everything afterwards was sweet and beautiful. But the horrible death of little Nina Tucker had cast the first dark shadow in this shining period. What Shou did to his own daughter shattered all optimism, restoring the truth: outside this bedroom, a horrible world lay before this decent, beautiful child.

And in this frantic vigil Maes stood as erect as a mountain. He wasn't smiling at all. He scowled with eyes beady and cold. Not on them, Gracia noticed, but on other things inside his mind. This was a man very appalled. "I should have known," the steel in his voice wavered. "I knew about the missing wife, and the chimera he made. I should have made the connection sooner…"

"Maes, don't," Gracia whispered against this unstable occurance. Everything was changing so fast and terrible. Suddenly, Roy Mustang and Alex Armstrong took darker masks by their use of the thing called Alchemy. What did it do to them in Ishbal? What did it do to those people on the other side? What did it do to a child like Alphonse Elric, who had to hide his features in a suit of armor? Alchemy was a dangerous magic, doing horrible things to those who wielded it, and their victims.

Maes coldly picked up the baby's bottle. "It's funny," his tone everything but. "Do you remember Edward's expression when Elysia came out? Here is an Alchemist who has seen the wonders of his abilities, and then he sees something completely beyond his experience." His eyes fell on Elysia. "Something so incredible. I know what he's feeling. More. Parenthood is the most…glorious thing that ever happened to me. Nothing personal, Gracia."

"None taken," the mother understood, gazing at her child.

"So tell me, Gracia…_what the fuck did Tucker see in Nina?"_ The bottle shattered in Maes' tense grip. His hands dripped with milk and blood. His ill eyes barely noticed. This was a man very appalled. No. This was a _father_ very appalled. "His own daughter…"

Gracia paused. It was all too tense. But she too fell prey to her husband's questions. What was Tucker thinking? Why would a father do that to his own child? Unfortunately, there were many willing to give some sick explanation for that question.

Maes grabbed a cloth and wiped his hands of the blood. "It's a tough world out there, Gracia. Many people have been denied their futures. By people unworthy of the trust and love given to them." A grim soliloquy he spoke, and such a person walked closely to Gracia and her daughter. "Nina has no future." He closed his eyes. When they opened, horror and anger was overcome, replaced by a new face to the infant Elysia: A sad but hopeful expression. "But you, my little princess, will have a future. Mommy and Daddy, and Uncle Roy, will make sure you have the opportunity to live it."

The baby nodded, unaware of anything, be it care or threat. It was left to her mother to be soothed by such loving words.

* * *

"Maes…"

With the blissful mention of his name, Gracia awoke from her slumber. The last thing she remembered was fatigue; a sensual, pleasurable fatigue. She and Maes hadn't enjoyed something like this since the first trimester. Anyway, the reunion of their bodies proved a nice reprieve from the storm of yesterday.

And then Gracia remembered said storm. She arose to find the rest of the bed empty. Fortunately, the moonlight revealed Maes. Garbed in nothing but his red robe, he sat on a chair. Best of all was Elysia cradled in his arms. The sight of such fatherly love was always an interest to Gracia's green eyes. She remembered Maes with children before, but it was different here. Every time he smiled at seeing Elysia or cradling her. Every time he thought of her. A glow was known, revealing a new richness never seen before. Clearly, a strong bond had been made between father and daughter.

Maes spoke his mouth without sound. Gracia tried to decipher his lips. Fortunately he repeated it a couple of times. The fever has broken! That was the happiest news in these dark weeks since the Tucker tragedy. The worst was yesterday, when Elysia suffered her first fever. Maes and Gracia stood helpless in this, their first trial as parents. Their skill in the art of poker faces was worthless against their daughter suffering pain her infancy could not comprehend.

But 'Happy Face' Hughes suffered the worst. His fears broke his calm personality, leading to frustration. In this, Gracia found herself a target. He blamed her for bringing this sickness onto Elysia. As far as he was concerned, she was a bad mother in letting this happen. Gracia retaliated with her own false accusations, calling him negligent. Even if there be some truth- Maes' job did leave him out of the house a lot- she realized it had no point in this horrible situation. Maes was just as bereaved as she, but feeling more useless in helping Elysia, fearing he didn't deserve being her father. The years of knowing her husband was not enough to deflate the surprise of how much he embraced fatherhood, and how he dreaded losing the source.

So the new parents made up and made love, and the next thing Gracia realized, her daughter was now all right.

Father walked to the bed with the baby. Maes gently lay Elysia into her mother's arms. Gracia proceeded to breast-feed the babe.

"Missed out on that one," Hughes playfully sulked.

Gracia struck him with her eyes. Naughty! Her husband walked out of her sight, untying his robe strap. She heard his glasses tap the table at his side. Her covers lifted and the mattress shook. A hand touched her shoulder, a hold that continued as mother and child lay down. It suddenly occurred that Elysia would be the only Hughes wearing any clothes at this moment! Oh well. Gracia felt her husband's hot breath upon her neck, his arm and knee upon her own, but her eyes stayed on her well child.

"Don't get any ideas, Maes," her voice gave attention.

"Why not? Let's show the kid how she came."

Gracia's slightly tapped her husband's cheek with the back of her hand.

"Just kidding. At least not while Elysia's watching," he joked. "Let's wait until she has kids of her own before we bring this up."

The two quietly snickered. "You'll wake her." Gracia warning came like music.

Maes' voice became like an old man's. "Kiddo, I remember when I had my first relation. Your grandma gave me them all the time. In fact," he clutched her breast. "She still does."

Gracia fought with mirth and impatience to his dirty humor. Eventually the laughter eased, taking a more complacent togetherness.

"I told you things would be alright," Maes' lie could squirm his listener, but its confidence eased her. The inadequacy that marked her husband had vanished. "Whatever the price for getting this joy, I'll pay it." He kissed her neck. Then he kissed his fingers and touched them upon his infant's cheek.

* * *

"Maes!"

Gracia was busy applying her makeup for the dinner. The sounds of the shower told her his location.

"Will it just be Roy and his subordinates?" She shouted in the bathroom. No answer. No accident. With a little release of the frustration within her, Gracia charged to the shower, and opened the curtain. "Maes! Will it just be Roy and the subordinates?"

"Yep!" Maes shamelessly answered considering his situation. "Who else would I invite?"

"Knowing you, the whole department!" Gracia allowed some disdain to flow. Before it continued, she left to continue dressing. Thanks to the Elric Brothers, a post in the Eastern City was now open for the Flame Alchemist. Maes felt this cause for a celebration. So he invited Roy and his subordinates to the house on the day before their departure. That was yesterday. Gracia got the news this morning. "I wished you told me first," Gracia protested for the umpteenth time.

"Oh c'mon," The shower's end freed his voice. "Aren't you happy Roy's coming to visit?" Maes came out, garbed only in a towel.

Gracia shrugged, unable to be moved. Not even the appearance of his wet, beautiful physique could change her thoughts.

Not even when his wet, muscled arms embraced her.

Nor even when his hair-mopped, handsome face gave her the loveliest of kisses? Perhaps…

"Not now," Gracia's warnings were superficial. She was moved to Maes pressing against her. Unfortunately, cries from Elysia caused Maes to emotionlessly retreat off his wife. "I'm stockpiling on those embarrassing stories to tell her when she's older." He promised rue.

Her defeated husband got to dress. Despite the guests, it would be a non-uniformed affair, so Maes wore his regular jacket and tie-less dress shirt. Gracia was equally not dressy, but her clothing was above her usual ware. Elysia got garbed in a pink gown with booties.

"Sorry about this. But what could I do? The guy talked me into it," Maes lied. Gracia interpreted a greater lie behind his stance. Roy would be leaving again. Even when he stopped living at their house, Roy was a persistent visitor for at least the engagement year. But after the marriage, Gracia saw Roy less and less. His job had increased in responsibilities. He had no time to visit and see her (or Elysia, for all of Maes' boasting that Roy be her guardian). And now, although this appointment was crucial to their plans, it meant the two friends would be saying goodbye again.

True there was some relief. With Roy out of Central, maybe Maes won't have to risk life-and-limb helping him. On the other hand, her husband won't have Roy helping him either. With this in mind, Gracia sadly gazed at her husband as he combed his hair at the mirror. Gaining a daughter, but losing a friend.

Despite the haphazard preparation, everything happened on time. Roy had only two officers with him. Riza Hawkeye and a young Lieutenant named Jean Havoc. A man of average height and build, his mouth protruded a cigarette.

"Still in the habit?" Maes playfully spoke, but his cold stare sent Jean to removing the cigarette. "No need to make your kid cough," he expressed uneasily. Other than that Havoc seemed easygoing, but Gracia noticed there was self-centeredness in his personality utterly absent from Maes. His presence made her feel weird. The man looked like he was staring at her breasts.

Everyone was seated. Roy sat at the head of the table. Maes and Gracia sat on one end, with Riza and Jean on the other. Roy was the party boy, Maes demanded with scant subtlety. He planted a party hat on Roy's head. This was quickly discarded (Jean also had to discard his humor about the scene). Elysia sat at the other end near Gracia, not entirely aware of what was going on despite Maes' claims of her maturity. Roy was not interested in the child.

Dinner commenced. Salad, roast beef, mashed potatoes, and cake was the course of the meal. "Any of you know about delivery?" Maes brought up a statement that only he and Gracia knew.

The talk was mainly about themselves, about Elysia (at least when her parents were speaking), about Eastern City, with Gracia described what living would be like for Havoc. Much was discussed on Roy's new duties, some of it lost to Gracia.

"Feeding time," Gracia lifted Elysia to her lap.

Havoc glowed at expectation, though it quickly dimmed when Gracia produced a bottle.

"Mrs. Hughes, can I hold her?" Riza asked seriously.

"Just call me Gracia," The mother granted the Lieutenant her wish. Hawkeye, usually as reserved as Gracia, became tender as she fed the baby.

Once dinner was finished, Gracia picked up the plates. Roy offered his services for cleaning up. Gracia obliged. They left Havoc and Hawkeye to the mercy of their host.

"Not wishing to be among the audience?" Gracia asked with a knowing spark.

Roy quietly shook his head. "I don't have Maes' skill with children. Or your abilities."

"Not so bad for a flat-chested old maid?" Gracia remarked coyly.

Roy paused starkly. "And who said that?" Gracia's sure eyes were all it took for him to get the message. "I'm sorry."

"No problem." Gracia sweetly accepted. "You've already made up for it years ago, when you told me to give Maes another chance."

"And you got Maes to do the same thing for me." Roy removed his coat and rolled up his sleeves. Gracia handed him the towel. She washed. He dried. A routine of theirs two years before.

"And here I thought you didn't want an Alchemist in the house."

Roy's comment had Gracia scrapping a plate with another.

"I heard about what happened with Shou Tucker and his daughter."

Gracia kept her cool. Something like a velvet glove over a metal fist. "I only knew her that one day, when Elysia was born. A very horrible thing."

She didn't ask for an explanation, but Roy answered anyway. "Some Alchemists like to play God." He was not in denial, nor in understanding. "In trying to attain divinity, they lose their ties to humanity. We're such sad creatures."

"Do you ever think there's something wrong with having such power?"

"Alchemy is neither good nor bad, Gracia. Only how it is used."

Gracia frowned. "_You _used it often."

"I'm a soldier, Gracia," Roy was defensive. "What I did with my Alchemy was fight the enemy. I would do it again for the defense of the nation. Hopefully we won't have another war for a long time."

Gracia looked away. Roy continued. "I have faith in the use of my flame. I would never use it for the wrong reason." Roy went a little dark, remembering an example when such prohibition counted. This shared knowledge reproached Gracia for her thoughtlessness.

There was a silence.

Roy turned around, casting an even more solemn face as he looked around the kitchen. "Place looks the same. Things are going to be different tomorrow."

Gracia delved into the full meaning. In two years, Maes helped Roy get back on his feet. Living at their house, the man became a part of the family. The times they had. The dinners together (At one point, Roy serving them dinner…memorable, if unappetizing). The card games where Gracia found herself as a spy for Maes. Her greeting the guys when they came home drunk or got bruised from their constant spars in the basement. Yes, the familiarity that affected him showed his regret about leaving this place. She will miss him.

Neither said it. So Gracia chose another for this regard. "Maes is going to miss you very much."

Roy avoided any empathy. "Hughes can take care of himself. He's got a lot of responsibility to protect."

"Like starting a revolution?"

Roy sparked with confidence. "The Fuhrer is getting on in years. One day he will step down, and that will be the day I will reach a rank where I will be able to succeed him. It's not like I'm going to assassinate him."

"Some will oppose."

"We can handle them. It's not like the higher-ups are Homunculus."

"Homo-what?"

"Some imaginary creature…"

Suddenly, Havoc lurked into the room, very afraid. "Help, Colonel…Major Hughes is showing us baby pictures. _Three volumes of them!_"

Gracia rolled her eyes to this charming but very heavy-handed act of fatherly love.

Roy lost some color. "The man gives me an envelope of them every day. My closet is stuffed with photographs." He added a sigh. "I'll be glad to be rid of them."

"That's not nice, Roy," Gracia frowned at his relief. "Maes gave them to you. He hasn't done that for anyone else."

Roy's eyes dipped.

"Yes, Colonel. Be a friend." Havoc pressed this cornered situation.

"Defeated," Roy allowed the wish. His view strengthened on Havoc. "Hold the fort until I come, Lieutenant."

Havoc's slender face slackened. "Very well, Colonel." He left the room

Roy turned to the dishes. "How many more to clean…" His eyes found nothing. "Quite a lot. I don't see how we'll ever finish." He mugged.

Gracia gave him a playfully condescending look.

* * *

The next morning, the Central Train Station saw a giant cavalcade. Soldiers stood in lines, rifles raised and fired. A band played. Crowds cried. All for Roy Mustang's departure! And leading this entourage stood Maes.

"What do you think, Roy?"

The target blinked indifferently. "Well-paid?"

"Oh, cynical. Still, there must be something in this fanfare that touches your egomaniacal heart, or lack thereof." Maes enthusiastically predicted. "Just think of the showing when you come back!"

"I can hardly wait."

Gracia overheard this conversation as she and Elysia came to the two friends. "Déjà vu isn't it?" With a glee, she gave Roy a basket of her apple pie.

"She goes thru baskets faster than nylon," Maes joked.

And then Gracia hugged him with her free arm. "Our house will always be there for you."

"Thank you." Roy accepted the gifts. Not so comforting to him was Maes taking his daughter and lifting her to his face. "Now give Elysia a _big_ kiss!"

Roy grew in discomfort.

"C'mon Uncle Roy!" Maes raised his voice.

The reluctant Alchemist gave the child a peck of his lips. Maes smiled, handling his child to her mother. Then he grabbed Roy. "Now you hurry up and get famous, so we won't have too much a hard time."

In embrace, Roy hid his sadness under a mask of bored impatience. Released from the bear-hug, he paused at his spot. He looked at the family and then he slowly boarded the train.

"See ya, Roy!" In farewell Maes waved his arms as if they were wings. He continued this until the train became a speck in the distant background. The festivities waned. The band stopped. The soldiers marched away. The crowd left. Only the Hughes family remained.

Gracia studied her husband's look, a proud face of defense. "Remember the last time we saw Roy off? Very different people we were back then."

"Yeah," Maes kept a dramatic stare to the direction. "Back then, a part of me was afraid that would be the last time I'd ever see Roy again. In a way I was right."

"We've all changed." Gracia added.

Hughes heaved a big sigh. "Well, what's done is done. Let's look at the future." With a bright expression, he took Elysia into his arms. The baby began to cry. The father responded with coos and sounds. "Don't worry honey. When you're a little older, your Uncle Roy will be in charge of the country. And it will be a better place for you to grow up in." He gave his daughter a big hug. "All we have to do is wait for him to come back." He wiped his eye.

Gracia nodded. She joined her family. "Well, Roy's gone now. There goes Central!"

Maes smirked at his wife's choice of words. He swung an arm around her. "We'll find something to do."

* * *

To be continued

I've compounded the timeline according to the clues from the first anime version of _Fullmetal Alchemist_. Now, this story is based on the Anime1 continuity, so manga or_ Brotherhood_ fans should stay away.

-Hughes meeting Roy for the first time since the Ishbal War must have occurred in 1909, right around the Brothers Elric's two-year tutelage by Izumi. Hughes' reference to 'his girlfriend' means his marriage had to have happened between early 1909 to the summer of 1910. This later point is indicated by the Brothers Elric's arrival to Central in 1910, when Gracia was five-months pregnant (hence Riza's line to Hughes on the train: "Babies are not born in five months!") and obviously married. It is not unusual to have an engagement lasting more than a year. My brother's engagement lasted from late 2003 to mid-2005.

- By Hughes' shock about Gracia going into labor being nowhere near the right time, one can assume that it was a premature labor. Let's give Ed and Al some months of studying and say his birthday happened between the seventh-eighth month of her pregnancy. Add to this the blizzard and thus Elysia was born in Winter 1911.


End file.
